And it felt good. I felt sexy, secretive and weirdly, given the fiddly nature of the damn things, free.
That is until I realised two things:
1) The skirt I'd chosen precisely for its concealing nature, as it didn't 'cling', and wouldn't show the tell tell lines of the suspender strap, was much shorter than I remembered, putting me in jeopardy of revealing a tantalising glimpse of lace stocking top. For a night out, fine. For work in the square mile? Non merci. For info, as I know you're interested, the skirt in question was the new shape for S/S '10 - the 'lampshade'. Worn high on the waist, with a close fitting top and a Prada heel to finish the look.
2) One of the suspender straps had some how managed to lose the gizmo that lets you adjust its length, thereby allowing you to fit the stocking to your leg/hem line. Alas, I do not have Giselle length pins, adding additional risk of flashing the very thing I wanted to keep under wraps.
Cue the whole day spent nervously tugging at hem of my skirt.
Adding insult to injury was the realisation of these two facts at 8.10 this morning as I walked passed a group of idle builders. Sigh.