Thursday, 4 March 2010

Thar She Blows

As a 29 year old girl some people find it peculiar that I almost exclusively wear skirts. In fact much to people’s horror, I don’t even own a pair of jeans. I like skirts, feel good in skirts & am unlikely to change this anytime soon.

This little quirk of mine has however exposed me to an element of nature that I had previously not even known existed. It’s an unforgiving predator & no skirt wearing person is safe. I’m of course talking about the pervy wind!

As you may be aware, ordinary wind is not a problem for skirt wearers. You grab a patch of material and hold it down. That tends to the do the job nicely. All in all it’s a small obstacle, easily conquered.

The pervy wind however is not so easily foiled. The pervy wind is cunning & has no set pattern. Also, it’s virtually undetectable. You could leave the house on a seemingly serene morning only to find the pervy wind lurking on a street corner, or more commonly, a busy bus stop.

What separates the pervy wind from the ordinary elements is simple. The pervy wind seeks out unsuspecting skirt wearers, seemingly on purpose, & without warning will whip a skirt high in the air with a reckless flourish. Unless you have witnessed this phenomenon for yourself it’s hard to understand the full impact it can have on a person.

Needless to say, this is quickly becoming the bane of my life. In fact so much so that I now take it into consideration when deciding on what I’m going to wear as no amount of skirt holding seems to stop the pervy wind once it’s started.

As an old hand at skirt wearing, I now know the ways of the pervy wind and, while I will no doubt continue to fall prey to this almost daily humiliation, I am prepared for its strikes. Now I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there is nothing I can do to stop it I’ve decided to join it. If I’m going to put on a show, it’s going to be a bloody good one.

I would urge other skirt wearers to join me in this peaceful alliance. Have a bit of respect for the rest of population. Ditch the boy shorts and granny panties. Make it French and make it lacy! I think it’ll be a much better world for it.



  2. You're too late I'm afraid. Viva la revolution. Just be grateful I didn't suggest thongs.


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