It's officially July 1st, which means I can now no longer avoid shorts season. While my favorite months of the year are now a distant memory, summer has snuck up on me and as I walk the streets of New York City, all I can see for blocks on end are legs. Long legs, firm legs, scrawny legs, tan legs, sculpted calves, toned thighs and then, for a split second, I look down at my knees and want to throw on a burka.
Oh how I utterly hate the summer. Especially when some of my favorite stores have decided that this season, short shorts are back in style. Or those flouncy dresses that come up to your mid thigh - which I would never wear because even if I paired them with leggings, I'd still have to figure out how to disguise the fact that my lower half is just not cutting it lately.
I've always been a classic pear. Small on top, large on the bottom. And they even say that it's healthier to be a pear than an apple but just give me one day to swap legs with someone who has shapely calves and not cankles like me and I swear, I'd probably go on a shopping spree and buy out all the short shorts on sale at Banana Republic and J Crew combined.
Give me the chance to slip on a mini dress and gladiator sandals without feeling self conscious about my knee fat and you will find me a changed woman. I can't tell you how many times I've contemplated setting up a consult with a plastic surgeon only to have cold feet because I've never gone under anesthesia. Oh if only I were an apple and not a pear. Sure apples don't look good in a bathing suit either and a pear can cover their lower extremities with a massive sarong or beach towel, but apples can also wear a big t-shirt and shorts that show off their thin legs.
I know I should just accept the fact that as a full-fledged pear, I will never possess the legs I secretly long for when I pass a stranger on the street. I mean, there are redeeming qualities with being a pear. I am pretty small from the waist up so that's a plus. So my thighs jiggle when I walk and my calves are the same size of tree trunks, things could be worse. I could be a watermelon.