Monday, December 20, 2021

I enjoy being a girl

I was browsing the comments to some on-line columnist and blundered into one of those squabbles between two disagreeable persons.  The male complained that women "won’t give us skirts, dresses, nice hairstyles, nylons or pumps" and the female responded: "I’m not going to spend fifteen minutes of my day squeezing into a pair of panty hose, nor am I going to stand in front of a mirror primping for God knows how long. Most of all, I’m not going to torture myself in a pair of 'pumps.'”
My reaction to that, aside from considering the commenters people I would cross the street to avoid saying hello to, is that the male complaint is reasonable although men love to grumble about women spending too much time getting ready to go out  and notoriously don't notice when a women has her hair done or anything else to enhance her appearance.

But I don't care about that.  I enjoy making myself look good.  I like messing around with make-up and adjusting this and that, trying different shades and combinations, changing my hair style, etc.  I'll try on this outfit with those shoes and then those other ones, then try on that outfit...endlessly.  I can spend an afternoon doing that, even when I'm not going anywhere.  It's kind of a hobby, I guess.
When we go out, I see to my hair and make-up, wear something chic and appropriate, with heels and stockings and matching accessories.  I have no interest in being a frump.
About putting on pantyhose, I think the woman was exaggerating or is incredibly fat.  I wear pantyhose in the winter or when it's chilly out because they are warm and it takes me maybe 30 seconds to put them on.  It's not a big deal.  Otherwise I wear thigh-highs.  Depending on my outfit, I might wear knee-high socks, especially with Mary-Janes.  If it's warm out and I wear a sundress  or the like I will go bare-legged.  Of course I wear socks with jeans and am bare-legged in shorts or cut-offs.  I have all kinds of high-heel shoes, mules and sandals and pumps and....  I love wearing them. I love the way they make me look and how they give a swivel to my walk.

 I've spent a lot of time in East Asia and it's my observation that the number of really good-looking women is about the same there as everywhere else, but a big difference, one often remarked on, is the much lower rate of obesity, so more seem attractive.  But another thing I noticed that helps them look good is that they dress well, really paying attention to looking stylish.  A lot of American women dress like slobs.  To be fair, so do American men.  If you are fat and slouch around (good posture is another point in favor of the Oriental woman) in an old sweatshirt and yoga pants one size too small for your fast-food-enhanced butt, well....
But looked at objectively, a lot of Oriental women have what my dad calls stump-puller legs -- thick calves and ankles.  Combine that with a general lack of curves, hair you can't really do anything with, and small eyes, and Oriental women shouldn't be considered all that attractive.  
But if you combine height-weight proportionality, good use of make-up and attention to dressing to enhance your natural assets, standing up straight, you've got something.  Add in paying attention to your demeanor (act feminine, enjoy being attractive, don't be pushily aggressive or overtly competitive, don't nag), and your voice (you don't have to screech or yowl or talk through your nose), and you end up with an attractive package that men will take a second look at.

And -- admit it -- isn't having men take a second look at you one of the pleasures of life?  Doesn't  it brighten your day, boost your self-esteem?  It seems to me all those what I call "public women" who write and speak about things like the male gaze and all sex being rape have some serious emotional issues. Those things are so stupid.  Sure, you can get unwanted male attention, and, yes, rape is real and something to be wary of, but those are part of life and you have to learn how to deal with them like all the other slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, to coin a phrase.  If men aren't attracted to you, how are you ever going to get a boyfriend, and without a boyfriend how are you ever going to have a husband?  And without sex how are you going to have children?  A family?  Isn't having your very own family what it's all about, what makes this world worth living in?

Maybe it's because in so much of my working life I have had to wear NWUs or combat uniforms and boots, my hair cut short and tied in a granny bun and in every way dressed to de-emphasize my femaleness, but I enjoy dressing to let the world know I am a woman.  I enjoy enhancing my sex appeal when the occasion is appropriate.  I wear tight skirts and form-fitting dresses slit up to here and underwire push-up bras that enhance my cleavage and four-inch heels that give a swing to my sway. I do my nails and take care of my hands and feet. I use make-up.  I wear perfume.  I wear a bikini when I go swimming. I wear Victoria's Secret lingerie to bed.  Ain't I terrible?