One of the advantages of getting older is that certain things tend not to bruise as easily as they did in our youth. Egos and hearts, for instance. On the other hand, the slightest bump can render a giant contusion on our bodies, especially if we're of northern European descent and take baby aspirin therapy. To wit, the giant bruises on the insides of my legs, just below my knees. The culprits? Knee-high compression socks worn on my trans-Atlantic flight to prevent swelling and blood clots. They didn't bother me a lick on the way out, but they were noticeably tighter on the way home. (I'm blaming the potato chips Italians love to serve with their wine.) No skirts for me, for a while. The good news is, I could still get my leg up on the bar stool to get the photo.