The thigh gap . . . sigh

Over forty years ago, that’s FOUR DECADES PLUS, FOLKS . . . Clearing throat. Okay, over forty years ago at a dorm at Indiana University, one of the girls in the next room over came and pulled me over to her room. She and her roommate had been investigating mirror reflections and discovered that when one of then stood in front of the mirror, they could see space between her thighs; and when the other did, there was none – the thighs touched. They wanted to add me to the data and my thighs touched, even though I was thin. My legs are just more muscular, thighs and calves both. I mean, even with no fat, my thighs would touch. I have short, stubby legs.

We marveled at it for a few minutes and then went on with life.

But it is back, big time – or big thigh, as it were. Here’s a link ; it doesn’t give me the option to embed. It’s about teens’ obsession with the thigh gap.

A minute ago I brushed my hand across the bottom of my chin and felt a couple of errant hairs and grabbed for the tweezers. Had to pull them out NOW. I guess maybe after those 40 years, I should have learned something. Sigh, again.