The Shorts Dilemma.

There comes a time when a girl has got to face the music and wear shorts. 

I understand that shorts have been fashionable for about two years now but I don’t mean the hot-pant version of a pinstripe trouser suit or a Daisy Duke pair of denim knickers. I mean gym shorts. Vile, unflattering gym shorts.

Tracksuit bottoms are flattering, usually baggy or flared or cropped making the upper body look slender in a tight tank or making the shape of the body look ambiguously shapeless in a hoodie. No. Today is a hot June day and jogging on a day like this in tracky bums just looks like you thought a little too hard about wearing tracky bums which means you either haven’t been jogging very long and aren’t happy with your bottom or you haven’t been jogging very long and don’t have the correct kit. Both of these, on the circuit that rings a portion of my town are cardinal sins. You want to look like you pound that tarmac twice a day and have lungs that could float a submarine. Rather than look tired out, sweaty AND ammateur, I could sacrifice the latter and blame my wheezes on hayfever. Hoho. 

My insecurities all scuttle out right before a run like so many woodlice. 

Gym shorts as a fashion item make your bottom look large, your legs look short and your abdomen look trunkated. Only the skinniest of athletes can carry them off, the lycra cousins of the zippy material mere mortals are lumbered with. It would be a public misdemeanor to wear lycra shorts with legs in the same condition as my own – I would make children break out in tears and the elderly need to sit down for a bit. However rather than suffer “sweaty leg” or even worse – the fabled notion of perspiring in places people just don’t want to know you perspire, shorts it is. 

How I long once again for the short days and long cold nights of November so I can wheeze and struggle in darkness and peace.  

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