She doesn’t look cheap. Even the thigh-high fishnets, the tops of which are intermittently visible as she walks, have a surprisingly classy feel, under the innocent gingham minidress she wears. It’s tight, but not too tight, inviting a glance, not a stare, not a leer.

She wears a demure black cotton cardigan, and her blonde hair is sheveled, but not overly coiffed. Her lip gloss is tasteful, as is the rest of her make-up.

But it’s the intermittent glimpses of the band of solid black on her thighs that keeps drawing my eyes back to the tops of her legs.

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