Being a six-foot girl (or any girl over 5’7″ actually) creates some very annoying problems. These are some of the issues us lanky bitches face on a day-to-day basis.
Unless you’re tall, you have no idea how hard it is to find jeans that don’t look like you’ve raided your little sister’s wardrobe. Yes, the shop may have labelled them “long” but guess what – they’re lying! Unless you want your jeans crawling half way up your shin, going to a shop that measures leg length in inches is the only way to go. For all the tall sufferers, I recommend Levi’s. Yes they may cost like £80, but its worth the money to have jeans that actually go to the end of your legs. Its not just jeans, trying to find anything with long sleeves just doesn’t happen, I’ve just accepted that my wrists will forever be exposed. Trying to find women’s shoes at size nine is a proper struggle, and trying to find ones that aren’t ugly, well that’s near impossible. Then you can write off jumpsuits unless camel toe is the look you’re going for of course… hell some of them are so small it’s more like moose knuckle territory.
Baths? Nope, not unless you enjoy trying to relax in the foetal position. Sitting on the bus? Make sure you enjoy having your knees rammed up your nose. Aeroplanes? Same thing. Scared demons are going to drag you out of bed? Well be prepared because your feet are going to be hanging over the edge of the bed.
Well that’s a lie because they look like ankle socks on me.
Crouch down, or be shunned to the back of the photo.
Every girl knows the struggle of shaving her legs. It’s boring, it takes AGES and you’ve got cactus legs the next day; but when you’re tall, there is so much more leg to shave! It takes so long that by the time you’ve finished one, the hair is already starting to grow back.
“Boys love short girls” well nice one. That’s us out the window then. Trying to find a fella who isn’t a massive gobshite is already a tough enough task. But trying to find one who is also taller than you is near impossible, especially in Liverpool. It feels like every lad you walk past in town might have a recessive Oompa Lumpa gene. And when you do see one that’s tall enough, they’re hand in hand with a 4’2” girl! Stay in your lane short arse!
Now this might sound like something that doesn’t really happen. But it does. I just wanna go round the Asda in peace, I don’t wanna be asked by loads of old people “Ooh you’re nice and tall aren’t you? Could you just pass me one of those cans of soup on that shelf? No that one, no a different flavour…” and on and on until you’ve unstacked a whole shelf to find what they want. I don’t work here!
Again, it sounds like something from a cheesy movie “How’s the weather up there?” but trust me, it happens. I’ve heard every joke in the book. You also get questions like “How tall actually are you?” “Do you play basketball?” “You must see well in a crowd”. I’m laughing on the outside, but there is a major fume going on inside.
Being tall comes with a shed load of crap disadvantages, but there’s no way to change it. You can’t spend your life stooping and slumping and wishing you were a few inches shorter. So take those legs for miles and walk tall (like you have a choice anyway) with your head held high – life is a catwalk and you are supermodel ready.