1. The world economy pretty much depends on Showing Some Leg. Or a lot of it, preferably. Why? Your average 18-year-old barely has enough cash to cover the bus fare home. If she even looks at that coveted Westwood taffeta skirt her credit card will start to beep. Oh sorry, what credit card? Thirty year olds and over? No amount of gloomy missives from Brussels will stand between them and a good purchase to carry them through the weekend. Food? Not a priority. That exquisite little tartan number, on the other hand… Not laughing quite so hard now, are you?
Translation: If you tell me not to do it, I will… just for the heck of it. I celebrated my big 3-oooh in the cutest, itsy-bitsy crimson belt. Sorry did I say belt? I meant skirt, of course. Just to spite an acquaintance who had the temerity to suggest a “classy midi”. No one complained. And if they did, screw ‘em.
2. The sour-faced byatches who live down the road need something to bitch about. If all girls started behaving like real adults the minute they hit their thirties, where would that leave all the gossip-bags, huh? That woman who lives circa 50 metres away from me and who wears her bedroom slippers to take her kids to catechism every day? Well, her brain would probably spontaneously combust if it weren’t for my outrageous skirts and even more outrageous tights (stockings, on a good day) to carry her through the day. Otherwise it’s goodbye gossip, hello nervous breakdown, meds, eventual unemployment and…world recession. See above.
Translation: Chances are the person who came up with this rule couldn’t pull off a mini at 18. Let alone at 30. Do us a favour and quit bitching now, will you?
3. Urban dictionary would crash without the obligatory MILF & Cougar entries. No miniskirts over 30 = no giggly, flirty mothers for the teenage hunk who passes as gardener (do these really exist?) to fantasize about. Seriously, no self-respecting teenager will picture doing the dirty deed with a woman twice his age wearing sensible tweeds. Well, not unless he has a fetish for tweed but that’s a whole different chapter. Fornication, good folks, needs some old-fashioned visual aids. And without fornication, the Internet as we know it would probably cease to be a habitable place. All that’s standing between you and cyber disaster? You guessed it. Women over 30s in minis.
Translation: The phrase mutton dressed as lamb died with the ’80s. Most of us aren’t very happy that it had to be replaced by the likes of MILF and Cougar. But since they’re here to stay, screw it might as well don the mini.
4. It’s the only way that fat dude in the corner wearing a stained Superman tee-shirt is going to get his jollies. Because let’s be blunt here, the likelihood of his standing a chance with the cute eighteen-year-old are less than zilch. So is the likelihood of his standing a chance with the 30-year-old in a miniskirt. But he doesn’t know that yet. He thinks a mature lady (with legs!!!!) is more likely to spare five minutes for his tortured soul. He’s wrong .
Translation: Just ‘cos I show some knee, doesn’t mean that everyone’s welcome. Or that it’s free entrance night. I wear a miniskirt cos I bloody well please and your chances haven’t magically increased by dint of this fact.
5. The survival of the species depends on it. With the world population ageing at an alarming rate and birth rates dropping drastically on a global level, it will probably fall to the drunken thirty-something to maintain population statistics. And there’s a good chance that she’ll be wearing a miniskirt when that happens. True story.
Translation: I really have no sensible translation for this one…sorry! I guess all I’m saying is that I want to grow old disgracefully. Poised perfection can get boring, but a fun mini might just be the cure Though it has to be pointed out that there’s a world of difference between a bona fide mini and showing your cheeks to the whole world. About six inches of difference, in fact.