She's got legs...

and doesn't know how to use them?

Legs are so strange. They are the foundation of your body there to serve a functional purpose for most. You know, a way to get from here to there. They can be strong. They can be stubby. They can be gorgeous. They can be long. They can be overlooked. They can be the center attention and names like Betty Grable, Marilyn Monroe and Rita Hayworth have made legs so much more than the most archaic way to travel.

While I must say I love those women for reasons other than their legs, like their voluptuousness, moxie, gumption and pin up... it's their legs that have me writing today. I for one can appreciate someone who has really great legs. The kind of legs that turn heads. The kind of legs that have covetous knees. Yes, I said covetous and knees in the same sentence. The kind of legs that have a definition in the calves. A contour from top to bottom. A shape at the ankle. Different lines running parallel and perpendicular towards the ground. Graceful. Curvaceous. Silhouetted. The kind of legs that made the aforementioned women famous.

Well guess what? Those are not the kind of legs I have. So, while I appreciate the women who were known for their stems I also secretly hate them. Not only have knee surgeries and bike accidents scarred my, what I lovingly refer to as ‘trunks’, genetics haven’t helped me out one bit. My mother would attest to this, so I will publicly thank her and the women that have come before her for my walking sticks. The gene pool has left me with thick thighs, knock knees, high arches, and undefined calves… I mean the list goes on and on. I have all the trappings of killer legs, but in my case it’s killer of a serial kind.

I will always watch classic Hollywood films and stare in wonder at the way Marilyn and Jane Russell sauntered across the screen. Or the way Vera Ellen and Ginger Rogers floated seemingly inches off the floor. Their legs were a tribute to these women. I would argue their legs were a tribute to legs themselves. Little girls and grown women have stared longingly at the pinup of Betty Grable and sighed accordingly. Men have as well. Double takes and catcalls. Green eyes and pouting faces. Great legs have the kind of power to cause involuntary reactions. And when it comes to reactions, and legs for that matter, I will always be a bridesmaid, never a bride.