Does anybody secretly dread the first creeping bit of sunshine? Maybe that’s a tad harsh: of course we all rejoice once we see it making its annual one-week appearance. But does anybody else dread the ensuing stress and strategic planning to get the legs into a state of semi-acceptable presentation? Pasty-white pins wrapped up all winter in the loving embrace of opaque black tights, sometimes two if the razor has been out of action for a while. Oh for the loving, mutual understanding of black tights. With the pesky sunshine, legs need to be silky smooth, super toned, and ideally coated in a faint hue of golden tan. And much like the lycra-clad gym bunnies, there are a secret sect of females out there who whip off the layers as soon as the first ray appears. Parading around with their wispy skirts and their gladiator sandals and their beautiful legs. The injustice of it all.