The Dress Barn Tights Debacle

Occasionally, I go for a few days without shaving my legs and they begin to resemble those of the average Italian man. When that happens, I generally wear pants until I get around to de-hairing myself. But yesterday, I decided a fashion compromise was in order: a dress and dark tights to cover up the leg shag.

Per my usual Life Is a Soap Opera state-of-being, I got a run in my tights on the Metro. How it happened remains a mystery, but by the time I got off at Farragut, a large swath of white, extra hairy leg was showing. Alarmed, I made an emergency Filene’s stop. After twenty minutes of searching, I realized they had no brown tights opaque enough to hide my ape legs. Panicked, I tried Gap, Talbots and Ann Taylor. All were a big, fat Fail. As I was accepting defeat and heading to the Place of Lawyerly Things, I happened to glimpse the Dress Barn across the street. I’d walked past a thousand times, but I’ve never actually set foot inside, let alone really noticed it. My Nordstroms-loving inner snob just couldn’t imagine shopping someplace with so much polyester in the display window and so I’d never considered it as a brown-tights-having option. But I was facing desperate times and all that.

After spending $6.99 plus tax, I had a glimmer of appreciation for the offerings of Dress Barn. Sure a lot of the clothes looked like a fifth grader bedazzled them, but hey, they had the elusive brown tights. That earned ’em some respect points. Anyhoosits, I arrived at the Lawyerly Place, ran to the bathroom and opened the packaging on the tights. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the shoddy nylon I was holding. The tights were basically two long tubes sewn together at the top, with no real foot or waste area and the legs were the same width at the bottom as they are at the top. For $6.99, I knew I shouldn’t expect the same manufacturing that I get with a pair of Donna Karans, but still, seven bucks should mean some attempt at style and form. Is anybody really the same size at the hip and the ankle? With gentle tugging and only mild cussing, I managed to get the things on. Daintily, I walked to my office. The tops of the tights were stretched to their $6.99 limit and I knew any sudden movement would split them on the straining seam.

I got through the morning and two bathroom trips with no more leg wear disasters. There were a few times I held my breath, but calamity was averted until my pre-lunch potty break. Just as I was pulling the tights up, my fingernails of death caused a hole. Not wanting to go back to Dress Barn, no matter how above-expectation it was, I decided to engage in a salvage attempt. Off I ran to CVS to buy nail clear polish, intending to halt the damage with a couple of coats of Wet& Wild Crystalic.

Armed with my new bottle of liquid defense, I returned to the Place of Lawyerly Things, found an empty bathroom stall, hiked up my dress, and went to work. It was difficult to apply nail polishing where I poked a hole. Only Cirque Du Soleil people are contorty enough. There was no way I could reach the run with the tights on without risking injury. So, I started to gently peel the tights off, but as I did, the run got visibly bigger. Gah! Back on they went and I spent 25 minutes in the bathroom stall, trying to nail polish the hole on my lower butt crack and the four runs that zigzagged from the epicenter.

As I left the bathroom stall, all lacquered up, I realized I had inadvertently glued my undies, dress and tights together in some random clothing version of a Wet & Wild threesome. I waddle danced around the bathroom, trying to un-stick my dress without causing any more damage to the tights. No luck. Finally I gave up. On my personal list of embarrassing moments, a stuck dress ranked pretty low. I made it through the rest of the afternoon, had dinner out, and even walked home from the Metro without any more issues. But as I bent over to reach my mailbox, the $6.99 cheap weaving gave up the good fight. There was a terrible splitting sound; I felt the remaining pieces slither down my legs and then a gust of air rush under my dress. Fan-freaking-tastic.

As I walked towards the elevator, I realized two things about not shaving: eventually, it is gonna come out that you look like a hairy German lady, no matter what you do to hide it. And having Jamal the Hot Concierge greet you, “Hey Chewbacca!” is humiliating. Le sigh.


13 Responses to “The Dress Barn Tights Debacle”

  1. Zandria Says:

    Oh, wow…what an adventure! (But not a good one!) Maybe you should keep a few pairs of (good) tights in your office drawer?

    Very funny story, though. 🙂

  2. Melissa Says:

    I’ve gotten to the point where I just walk around with the runs all day. Then again, I usually don’t wear dark tights either….

    You should turn your life into a tv show. Kind of like Seinfeld, but with lawyers. I would absolutely watch that.

  3. Kat Says:

    Ugh! I had a similar experience and had to buy a last-minute set from the convenience store downstairs in my office building – terrible! As silly as it sounds, I never realized how much quality mattered with tights, probably because I’d never worn such a bad pair before. I tore them off in frustration rather than messing with nail polish, though. Props to you for determination.

  4. Laina Says:

    LOL, maybe if you’d STARTED at CVS…I don’t know about the tights offerings, but their hose aren’t bad for $3/pair hose. (Considering I have little fingers tugging at my toes a lot when I wear hose, I have very few pairs that cost more than that).

  5. ashley Says:

    Yikes. I always pass by the Farragut Dress Barn (before it was covered up by scaffolding!) and I always swear to myself that I will never shop or eat anywhere with the word barn in the title, but this one time, they had this very cute polka dot dress in the window? And I almost caved. I stayed strong, though. Good to know you can get a cheap and slightly functional pair of tights there, though 🙂

  6. Pages tagged "weaving" Says:

    […] bookmarks tagged weavingCoolest Racing Games The Dress Barn Tights Debacle saved by 1 others     privatecheska bookmarked on 10/15/08 | […]

  7. Lola Famous Says:

    Thank goodness Mr. Blind Date from the pantyhose debacle wasn’t around anywhere, spying and laughing behind your back.

    You and your legging wardrobe malfunctions! LOL.

  8. DCBlogs » DC Blogs Noted Says:

    […] Chewbacca! To find out why, read The Dress Barn Tights Debacle. Who Invented […]

  9. Peg Says:

    LOL!! Your experience is yet another reason to bring back knee sox! That is unless the hair has grown so long that it makes it’s way through the knitting. . … eeeuw! Still, knee sox offer far more comfort than those dreadful nylon tubes sewn together at the crotch.

  10. Keep Up With Me » Random Friday, Ver. 69 Says:

    […] Katherine had a debacle with tights she bought from Dress Barn. […]

  11. Kel Says:

    hahaha- now that was definitely a good laugh for a friday!

    Hope you day is better!

  12. Paul Oberle Says:

    i love that you used the word “Contortly” in a sentence!

  13. lacochran Says:

    I shave daily because I fear this very humiliation. And as for Dress Barn, my husband says “Women willingly shop at a place with BARN in the name?”

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