Posts Tagged ‘tights’

Going au naturel

When I was living in Namibia, a friend who was super cool grew her body hair and didn’t shave and she was great. She was au naturel and I wanted to be just like her.

So I came back to England in winter and decided to be au naturel and cool. I had not thought about the fact that my friend was being au naturel in summer in Namibia. Because it was winter, I was wearing tights and leggings a lot. Tight things on your legs when your legs are waaaaaay hairy is itchy in the extreme! I was constantly shifting and fidgeting with my tights, itching and scratching. I started to get little red rashy bits where the hair had been pressed into a pair of tights at the wrong angle.

The armpits. Well, the armpits were a constant problem. I get hot much quicker than I get cold, anyway. So even though it was winter, I’d be sweating up a storm under my jumper. I was constantly showering to stop from getting too stinky.

It was all very awkward and complicated. Lots of itching and sweating. NOT what I’d signed up for! Why wasn’t I the picture of au naturel and coolness? Why weren’t girls looking at me and thinking how admirable it was that I was being true to my body and its natural form? But no, I was the sweaty itchy kid in the corner with leg rashes who dreamed of taking a razor to it all….

Eventually, I did it. I just did it. It felt great! I was smooth and fuss-free and happy.

So I’m sorry, world. I tried.

I tried. And I failed.

And now I swim. So there is no way I can be mega hairy and preparing for Brazil 2016. Everyone knows you need to be streamlined so you can go faster. Unfortunately that’s what it comes down to. So I have to follow my Olympic dreams and that’s just how it’s got to be. Alright?

W is for…


When I was on my gap year, I taught at a preschool group in a township. There was a lot of showing pictures and the children all chanting together “This is a….” One of the things for the letter W was a picture of a “watermyelon.”

There was also the letter I, for which the picture was of an “Eendian”. Actually, it was a picture of a girl in a beige dress with tassles and a headdress, who was quite clearly an American Indian, but who was I to nitpick.

It was months before I realised what the teacher meant when she taught the children about “chicken tights.” (Thighs.)

They had some interesting songs too, which I’m sure were made up on the spot. Each one has the same tune.

Building up a temple,
Building up a temple,
Building up a temple for the Lord,
Boys, come and help us!
Girls, come and help us!
Building up a temple for the Lord.

Another one:

Walking to Jesus,
Walking to Jesus,
Walking to Jesus every day,
With my bible in my hand,
Bare feet in the sand,
Walking to Jesus every day.

This next one ended up with me in a bit of a surreal situation:

Telephone to Jesus
Telephone to Jesus
Telephone to Jesus every day…..
(hands in pretend telephone shape next to ear)
Telephone to Jesus,
Telephone to Jesus,
Telephone to Jesus every day.

One day, I’d only been there a week or so, the teacher said to me, “Teacher Laura, I think Jesus is calling you on the phone!” It took me by surprise and I didn’t have time to think about whether I was especially comfortable with the idea so I whipped out my mobile phone in front of about ninety amazed children and said something along the lines of “O hello Jesus! Hi! How are you? That’s nice. So you’ve got a message for the children? O that’s good. What would you like me to tell them? To be nicely behaved and to eat up all their dinner? And to listen at school and do lots of learning? Ok Jesus, I’ll tell them you called and I’ll tell them you love them lots. Ok. Bye bye!”

And that’s still probably the wierdest pretend phone call I’ve ever had.