Just came across this (via Jaygee), and was reminded of a recent conversation.
I was looking for the unidentifiable 'something' in leather that might define the indefinable something that is me; all women do, when they go bargain-basement shopping.
Two women entered the shop. One was large, wearing a tight black top that slid off her shoulders and exposed a large expanse of cleavage.
My companion blurted out, meaningfully loud, "How can people dress like this?"
I walked out of the shop.
Fifteen minutes later, she was still thinking about the woman-in-the-off-shoulder-top.
"But how? How do they go about like that? Doesn't anyone tell them?"
I finally countered, "Tell them what?"
"That they can't wear such stuff."
"Says who? She looked happy enough, wearing it."
"But she can't carry it off... she's too big for that kind of dressing... if she was slim and wanted to show off her figure, I'd understand."
"How does it matter? The point is - she was happy. She thought she looked nice."
"But still..."
I changed the subject. I knew my companion would not understand - she's been on a strict diet for weeks. Eats soup for dinner, fruit for breakfast, and tells me to watch my weight.
I remember that woman - or at least, I remember her bare, rounded shoulders. I remember her flashy make-up, her bare smooth skin. I do not remember being disgusted. I remember thinking out an expression my aunt uses often, to great effect - 'Like...WOW!'
I remember thinking 'Wish I had the guts to carry off something like that'.
I envy her her confidence, her desire to flaunt what she has. I envy her the dare-bare act (in a bargain basement! In Delhi!). And yes, I even envy her so much cleavage that it fairly runneth over the edges of her blouse.
Corollary: I see many bare-shouldered women near my office - tall, blonde, skinny girls wearing strappy blouses and short skirts. The funny thing is - I don't remember their faces; I don't envy them.
3 comments:
I am waiting when the day I dont care that my tyres show and I look totally unsuited in the outfit I am wearing and I JUST DONT CARE....
Wait...your friend thinks you need to watch your weight? I hope she never meets me.
It's strange...while my own weight is a constant source of worry to me (pathetic, yes) the women I am attracted to do tend to be the ones some people would call overweight, but who dare to try to look good, something I'm actually afraid of trying.
i like how you started- about looking for something distinct when we go bargain basement shopping- so much more likely to find something ditinct to us there as also so much more effort so so much more appreciated!
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