HAVE you spotted the odd brave lady baring her limbs yet?
For the fashion-conscious, when the clocks spring forward for British Summer Time this weekend, it marks the beginning of tights-off weather.
We asked two women if they will dare to bare . . .
I’VE already seen a few adventurous women unleash their bare legs for their first outing of spring, but I am totally Team Tights.
While others are waxing, shaving and fake-tanning in preparation for tights-off weather, I say holster those lower limbs.
When I see women with their tights off, I assume they are reckless individuals.
All I think is, aren’t you a bit chilly? No amount of St Tropez can disguise those goosebumps.
Like surrendering my beloved hot water bottle before June, whipping off my tights at the first ray of sunshine is unthinkable.
Tights and shorts have been my go-to look since the 1990s and I’ve never moved on.
Now I’m 51 and tights are like my comfort blanket.
Hot flushes don’t touch my legs — I’m cold most of the time.
Only a brave woman trusts the British weather and I don’t like to get caught out.
Although, I did once wear opaques on a sizzling hot day in Sicily.
My excuse was that we were going on a boat trip and I didn’t want to get chilly.
Did I get sunburn? No, those pesky rays couldn’t get anywhere near my legs.
Tights with heels, tights with Adidas, tights all day and all night long for me.
My special tights drawer is overflowing with 30 pairs and, shamefully, they’re all identical — 60 denier Primark opaque (three for a fiver) and I wear them come rain or shine.
At least two packs are unopened as I like to crack out a new pair for a special occasion.
Pulling that soft, clingy nylon on for the first time feels like a treat for the legs.
Then there are the reserves at the bottom of the tights drawer — a little bit bobbly, but great for adding a layer under jeans in the winter.
Tights save a fortune on fake tan and there is no pressure to shave my legs every day.
Tights save a fortune on fake tan and there is no pressure to shave my legs every day
Hannah Verdier
The only time I make an allowance is if the temperature hits 30C plus.
But then I’d still wear them in the evening — if I’m feeling wild, I’ll go down to a 40 denier or switch to a fishnet.
Celebs with covered legs make me feel seen.
Victoria Beckham loves her black tights, Rihanna is a hosiery queen and if channelling Kate Moss is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
When I saw photos of Kendall Jenner walking around in tights but no skirt, I thought she looked great, even if that look would be a bit much for a trip to Lidl in South London.
But it’s clear to me, those who would rather go bare than wrap their legs in nylon are just plain wrong.
EVERY year, as the clocks are about to go forward, my friends chorus excitedly: “Yay! Time to whip off the tights!”
But I have no idea why they spent the autumn and winter swaddled in the rotten things anyway. I haven’t owned a pair in a decade.
The French philosopher Albert Camus said: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”
That’s me and my relationship with tights.
Begrudgingly, I used to buy a pack of opaques as the clocks went back in October but, one day, I decided they were just too depressing and vowed never to set foot in the hideous things again.
Believe me, there’s nothing better than the freedom of going bare-legged.
I find tights claustrophobic and uncomfortable. And, in my tight-wearing days, never found a pair that didn’t roll down and need constant tugging up.
I’ve always been baffled by people who are married to their legwear, particularly when the temperatures are toasty.
Equally, friends have not pulled any punches on commenting on my lack of cover, even when the mercury is below freezing.
A couple of years ago, I was in New York for Thanksgiving with my family.
I’m probably considered nothing short of insane, but the no-tights look is part of my identity
Saskia O’Donoghue
We went for a walk with snow on the ground. I was wearing knee-high boots but between them and my tweed shorts was a long swathe of thigh, totally bare — in late November.
I got endless astonished looks, some people even asking if I wasn’t freezing.
I’m probably considered nothing short of insane, but the no-tights look is part of my identity.
I remember baulking at one former colleague who was wearing a very light, summer dress — which I also owned — with thick black tights in August.
I understand that some people have medical issues which mean they feel cold all the time and I’d never judge them.
What I find puzzling is women who seem to have an addiction to wearing tights even in lovely weather.
I think the vast majority of outfits look worse with black tights, especially with an otherwise summer-appropriate get-up.
To me, there is no greater sartorial joy than putting together an outfit at the beginning of spring which will put my legs — after a subtle layer of fake tan, of course — on display.
Bare limbs signal the arrival of the best time of the year — spring and summer.
Going tights-free for a few months just isn’t enough for me, though, which is why I now refuse to put them on even when it’s icy.
I understand that some people want to cover their legs up, perhaps as they get older.
I might feel the same one day but now, in my early 30s, I’m very happy to get mine out.
And I really can’t imagine that I’ll ever want to put those terrible tights on again.
Even when I’m tottering off to draw my pension in the depths of winter.
