That’s Fashion, Sweetie: I love your … knees?

Since I was young, I have been obsessed with tattoos. I loved the idea of my body being a canvas and expressing myself past my clothes and hair. Maybe it was growing up with We Heart It and Tumblr or the chokehold Avicii’s “Wake Me Up” music video had on me, but in class I would doodle on my legs and arms. 

As I got older, I stopped drawing and began considering what I would get if I actually got a tattoo. I understood that tattoos, past personal or fashion aesthetic, can also have cultural significance based on ethnicity, religion or cultural zeitgeist, but I felt that none of those really applied to me. So I thought: maybe the number 44 on the bottom of my left foot for my high school and its memories based on Frank Ocean’s “Forrest Gump”; perhaps a swirl behind my ear for my dog, Wagyu, and his curl pattern; or maybe an ax handle for my late English teacher who was a father figure and a dear friend to me.

As I became unsure when I actually researched tattoo shops, my Instagram algorithm showed me an alternative. No, not ephemeral or temporary tattoos. But the rave of the ’60s and a surprising vintage alternative. 

Apparently, women used to paint their legs — specifically their kneecaps — with specific makeup palettes designed for this purpose. With major companies like Revlon, Coty, Elizabeth Arden and even Fabergé creating their knee rouge kits containing basic primary colors, like red, blue, yellow and white, the trend began in the Roaring Twenties.

Flappers first started painting butterflies or eyes on their knees to draw more attention as dress lines got shorter and panty hose were left behind at home. As the shorter dresses and more “scandalous” clothing trickled into women’s street style, women adopted the same trend as an act of rebellion to draw more attention to their exposed legs. 

In fact, this trend can be found in a 1925 poem with the line “And, my, here comes a beauty; I watch as it walks by – a painting like that always seems to catch my eye. As one sees a comely miss with both knee-caps ablaze, studying art becomes a treat to all of us these days.” 

Of course, people got very creative, even using the painted kneecaps as a way to communicate. For example, when Clarice Wilson got a dog her husband hated, she painted her beloved dog on her kneecaps. Her husband, Arthur, painted the two famously beautiful women in their town as a form of retaliation. 

So then why did it become so popular again in the ’60s? 

I actually don’t know. 

But, my guess is thanks to Dame Barbara Mary Quant — the mother of all mothers in the skirt world: the miniskirt. 

Of course, despite popular belief, she didn’t actually invent the miniskirt. The beginning of shorter hemlines and teasing the knees (again) first showed up in Parisian couture in the 1950s with Balenciaga’s “sack dress,” Yves Saint Laurent’s Trapeze line in 1959 and André Courrèges’ 1964 collection of actual short skirts.

Quant was attributed to the founding of the mini skirt because of her advocacy for street style, school girl rebellion and being a key advocate for London’s Swinging’ Sixties style. Without her push, we might not have had the popularized and mainstream fashion collections of miniskirts that exist on runways, like Miu Miu’s viral Spring/Summer 22 show, and other it-girl items like Danielle Guizio’s paillette and pleated miniskirts, Shushu/Tong’s super-mini ruffled skort and even Diesel’s brown belt skirt. Or, the mainstreamification of the super-crop style would have come years later than now. 

With bloomers still on trend and the hot summer coming with shorter dresses by the day, maybe it’s time to bring back the leg palettes. Face painting certainly was the highlight of carnivals when I was younger, so why can’t I paint my legs like I do my makeup every morning? It’s low commitment compared to traditional tattoos and can add a fun dimension to an outfit’s story.

I do have to admit, though, that I have a qualm: my lack of art skills. But, nothing like some Pinterest scrolling and a visit to the contemporary art museum to remind me that art is subjective anyway. 

So dance the hot summer nights away, perhaps with an extra shimmer on your kneecaps.

Hadyn Phillips is a rising junior writing about fashion in the 21st century, specifically spotlighting new trends and popular controversy in her column, “That’s Fashion, Sweetie.”