If the Photoshopped perfection of magazines and advertisements were to be believed summer skin is, in the majority of cases, tanned to a flawless, uniform, honey colored, degree, and is completely blemish free. The reality, for me at least, is a lot paler. Paler, that is, except for the multi-hued bruises strewn about my lower limbs. For summer is the time when my inner klutz feels the urge to run free (and bump into something shortly thereafter).
In fact, in the course of one short week, I’ve made contact with so many pieces of furniture that I’ve lost count. Of course, as I’m British, I’ve apologized to each of my inanimate adversaries. And each, in return, has left its own indelible mark.
In prior years this barrage of bruises would have been my cue to encase myself in layers of camouflage. Opaque tights, wide-legged pants, and a variety other items that were completely unsuited to the warmer weather but which allowed me to hide the results of my clumsy behavior. This year, however, I realized that I should stop focusing on the unattainable (from both a tan and a bruise perspective) and just enjoy the summer…and the skirts and dresses which have been lurking in my closet waiting for their chance to be worn with bare legs.
Besides, there’s always spray-on leg make-up, such as Sally Hansen’s Airbrush Legs…