Summer is a time of self-love. Or, really, loathing. The weather is such that there is more of you to expose, parts that have been slumbering under the hibernal shelter of pants. Parts like thighs. In the spirit of Jane's Let Us See Your Boooobs feature, we're asking you to send in all your thighs: pasty, ashy, bruised, skinny, ebullient, effulgent. And now, our latest two reader submissions!

Summer is nearly upon us. Now necklines begin to plunge, friendships morph into something more and then combust. Hipster parties begin to smell worse and worse. But maybe the most crisisey crisis we face is what to do with those pasty thighs, blindingly white from their months in hibernation. For too long we've been taught to hide these trunks in shame. But isn't it time to accept this no man's land for what it is? Are they not beautiful pillars of chunky marble holding up your torso? Send your pasty whites to thighs@gawker.com along with your age, first name and a little about what your pasty thighs mean to you. It's a movement, people! After the jump, we'll show you some of ours so you show us yours. —Josh