It struck me today. There is something about the knees of a woman that make them for me the most interesting part of her. Tits and ass, overrated. Arms and legs, too obvious. Face, too random. But there is fragility and poetry in the knees and this thought just took me by surprise today while looking at this lady with a soft limp in her walk. She wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense, nor had any particular feature to remember her by, nevertheless her knees I remember well because they seem to make her walk more alive in spite of her slight handicap.
As a teenager girl you wear socks up to your knees, to show them off and make your legs look longer and after a certain age you try to cover your knees because they become rinkled and somehow misplaced. Knees are something we rarely think off as being an important part of our appearance and yet we are always conscious of their existence.
They are there, proeminent, delicate but also strong as one of the largest and most complex joints in the body.
Now I truly understand the fashion of knee ripped jeans…