There’s a store near my office which sells deeply discounted name-brand clothes.  While I don’t have the patience to regularly sort through rack after rack after rack of tops and skirts and pants to find the one gem, it’s a good place to go when you’re looking for (a) fancy party dresses, of which they have a nice and affordable selection; (b) designer jeans, which they have hundreds of; or (c) socks and tights, which are just way overpriced at regular stores.

The other day I went in there to look for a pair of jeans I could tuck into boots.  I absolutely refuse to pay a lot of money for skinny jeans, since I still mostly believe skinny jeans are an abomination but I am a slave to fashion peer pressure, and skinny seems to be what everyone is wearing these days, so FINE.  (I scored a super cute pair from Paper Denim & Cloth that were slim but not super skinny tight, and which only cost $20!  Less than the Gap! Victory!)

While I was there, I swung by the tights rack and picked up a very cute pair of dark heather grey “sweater tights” that were thick and warm looking, perfect for wearing in winter under skirts and dresses, and with boots.

This morning, I pulled on a dress, and got out my new tights.  I took off the wrapper, pulled them on and:

Huh.  It appears that I have inadvertently purchased leggings.

I checked the label again, and it clearly says “Sweater Tights.”  The word “leggings” appears nowhere on the packaging.  Nor the word “footless.”  Maybe I’m wrong, but to me “tights” implies “will cover your whole leg, including your foot.” Am I wrong?

Fortunately, I was planning to wear knee-high boots anyway, so I could just pop on some socks and go.  But now I somehow own skinny jeans and leggings.  What’s next, over the knee boots paired with a menswear vest and skinny tie? Formal shorts? Or, god help us, pegging my jeans?  Somebody save me!