When I worked in Los Angeles, there was a woman there who had "thunder thighs." They were like those of a linebacker in football.
When ever she walked down the hall, you could hear her pantlegs rubbing together. It was unmistakable.
One time I made the mistake of saying, "(Her name), could you come here for a sec?" without seeing her. She asked, "How did you know it was me?"
I had to be quick on my toes and fibbed I had just been in the hall.
A gap is good