I love pencil skirts. Their sexy, they hug your bottom perfectly, their professional.
But it is such a bitch to get around in.
Walking up the stairs at Yonge today I felt like a penguin. And when you’re already of petite stature, the pencil skirt is disastrous to your stride.
This morning on the daily walkathon through the tunnel from Kennedy parking lot to the station, I was left in the dust.