Twelve years of Catholic school learnt me sumpin': 'Tis better to wear knee socks.

When you have twelve solid years of polyester skirt schooling, you know that there is a strong chance of self-imposed air conditioning. That is, occasionally, you will be wearing a skirt and suddenly you will feel a slight breeze caress the backs of your legs. Occasionally, that feels a little too northerly. And, en route to the mall or the bus stop after school, where no doubt a bus of heckling schoolies from an enemy institution will inform you in no uncertain terms that you did the unthinkable, you realize: you did the unthinkable.

You tucked the back of your skirt into your tights. If ever there were a time to resent the implications of control top, it would be now. Control top gone off the heezy yo.

With knee socks, except for the occasional lazy elastic, a girl faces no such threat to ensemble.

Don't cry for me, Leggs brand pantyhose. I never left you. I just got smarter.

I kept my promise. Never to impose air conditioning on my nether thighs again.

Viva las knee socks.