There are few less appetizing marriages than the one of hosiery and hot casserole. This how-to from the pantyhose-crafting craze of the '80s is one in which dinner and webbed nylon unite by way of navy blue knee-highs. On that point alone, The Pantyhose Casserole Carrier deserves a special prize in the world of How-To misfires.
To be clear, the instructions call for a pair of new pantyhose or knee-highs. But how would your party host really know that the puffy carryall housing tonight's tuna noodle casserole wasn't stitched together from expired office wear that had seen one too many humid July subway commutes? And what are the fungal ramifications of food still hot from the oven being packed for transit inside a pouch of eukaryote-riddled nylon? No one wants any pair of knee-highs getting that close to their dinner.
Another Pantyhose Casserole Carrier conundrum: its cleaning. Nothing grabs the grime of potluck-friendly dishes like lasagna, tamale pie, or your grandmother's famous macaroni & cheese better than stretch mesh nylon and polyester fiberfill, and if your Casserole Carrier wasn't objectionable enough the first time out, imagine the impression you'll make a few potlucks in, with those knee-highs indelibly splashed with cream-of-mushroom soup stains or embedded with the remains of browned parmesan. Maybe even snagged with an unsightly run.
And consider the what-ifs. Paying a visit to sit Shiva? Could anything scream goyem louder or offend the grieving more inappropriately than a knee high-sourced casserole tote finished with red gingham ribbon? And what if this how-to works like a gateway drug leading a maker to the reckless crafting of other dinner table accoutrements like Bunion Pad Trivets or Deodorizing Insole Coasters? Could Control Top Oven Mitts or Cotton Crotch Pot Holders be too far behind?