Gotta AdDress This: Yesterday I wore a dress that, even while I got dressed, I noted it was a bit, shall we say, “interesting”. It revealed and hugged all sorts of curves that I truly did not know that my skinny self possessed. But here’s the thing – absolutely nothing my mirror reflected back to me prepared me for the reaction out in the world! The reason this, to me, is blog-worthy? Humbly, I am quite used to a certain amount of attention – after all, my hair is twenty feet tall and I teeter around in some fabulous 4” heels every day (and I’m talking commuting in them; not wimping out and wearing the flip-flops until I get to work); I have learned to, with the help of my head-phones, block out the peripheral and keep going.
Yesterday, my God, was ridiculous! Literally cars were pulling over and an entire motor-cycle club did a u-turn and headed my way so that the ‘leader’ (or maybe he was just the fastest), could ride up to me to introduce himself and ask me out. A man tapped my hand to get my attention, to then simply give me a thumbs-up. Men made sure I noticed them as they walked past me, shaking their heads. Oh, as if all that were not enough? I was asked if I had gotten butt-implants! What?!
No pun intended, but all that attention was quite ‘revealing’. You see, I am the same woman I was the day before; having made the exact commute and encountered, as happens in this city, the same people. The only thing that had changed, was my dress (oh…and my underwear J ). In my humble opinion, I have also looked more beautiful in some of my other get-ups; so, I am forced to face the reality that for most men, the equation is (embarrassingly) simple: beautiful woman + long-legged stride + 4” heels + clingy white dress + a small waist + a fat ass = “baby you are so beautiful”. But, as we always tell the truth here (might as well if we’re addressing shit), what they all wanted to say was, “baby, the things your body is telling me to do to it…” Ha-ha.
After yesterday’s little experiment, I have decided to ‘retire’ that dress. Yup, I concede defeat! The confluence of dress and in-your-face male-attention cannot be ignored. Yesterday revealed to me that despite my supreme confidence in my womanhood and femininity, I balk at any overt display of sexuality; my own included. Don’t misunderstand, I am an extremely sexual being; but that component of my make-up needs to only reveal itself to my partner; so the unwitting unveiling and interpretation of same yesterday was saddening.
But, I’m not stupid – that dress will be dry-cleaned and, following my girl Beyonce’s advice, will be kept at the back of my closet – you never know when you’ll need a little ‘Freakum Dress’.