I am proud to introduce a guest post by the very talented blogger Anika of ByAnika. I received such thoughtful comments on my last blog of Bag or Bandage Fashion, that I requested Anika to respond with a follow-up blog and she very graciously obliged.
Most of you know Anika by now, as she is rapidly spreading the love amongst all of us. I think of her as Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of Love of Blog-dom! She encourages and supports fellow bloggers with an immensely open heart and honest spirit. The reason why I requested Anika to write a responsive blog is because I consider her to be a non-conformist. She is brave, bold and does not let society dictate her choices. She does not follow prescribed norms and standards. One of Anika’s most unique traits is that despite being all of the above, she does not come out as a “woman with an agenda.” She retains her carefree, sensitive, generous and beautiful spirit.
Read and enjoy the following post by the enchanting Anika!
Last week I wrote a post chez moi at By Anika on how I feel that sexy is a state of mind. Gone are the days when I tried dressing overtly sexual, today I wear my own flowy designs that showcase me. The day after writing my post I surfed over to Ambu to find her pondering same topic in her post Bag or Bandage Fashion. Talk about being on the same wavelength.
Ambu asked me to elaborate on my reply to her post. The topic of sexuality and fashion is one that I find very interesting, so I was more than happy to share some of my personal experiences in terms of dressing sexually.
I feel that there are all kinds of rules about what to do and not, and what I strongly advocate is that we all screw the rules and not let us become restricted by a regime that we feel we need to comply with. How we express this defiance will vary of course, for some breaking out a tight dress is it, for others wearing the “wrong” shape feels freeing.
In terms of dressing sexually for me, it is all about feeling confident in who I am and not apologizing for it. I walk down the street, swaying my curves (this I have little control over anyway, watch me walk and I will give you a symphony of curves in motion), looking at people with an open mind. I am present.
As for the outer aspect of my fashion and sexuality I’ll say this. I have a body that a lot of men seem to find very sexual. I have been groped etc. by men passing me by in the street since I was 12 years old. Only yesterday several men came up to me and made suggestive looks and comments, and one guy followed me.
This is a daily occurrence for me, and for years I have been pondering why I experience this. One thing is my open nature I think, but even when I am more closed off it happens. I guess it is the va va voom of the walking symphony and the hour-glassy shape of my body.
When I tried dressing more sexual I felt vulnerable, because showing my body to the fullest meant that the unwanted attention increased. I felt exposed and hurt, because I was attracting attention solely based on my curves. So, you might ask, do I now wear wider clothes because I am hiding? Why not show some cleavage?
I’ll tell you why I wear clothes that are flowy, that showcase all of me, not just my lovely rack. I am not hiding; I am not trying to cover up my sexuality. I dress the way that I do because I want to feel free! Free to express myself any way I want to, free to sway my ass when walking – not holding in my tummy, not worrying, just being and having fun in the moment. Feeling free and unconstricted is sexy to me.
Why is the dance of the seven veils so sexy? Because we want to see what is underneath, because that foreplay is a thrill. I dress in a sexual way because I dress in a way that honors me as a whole person.
I may be selective, but when I invite you into my life you get a whole lot of woman, sexual and soulful. To me they are two sides of the same story. They are me.
I wore this dress yesterday. It is loose and long. It flows and moves. Some of you may describe it as a “fat” dress, others may scoff and say it hides all feminine curves and does not allow a woman to express her sexuality and yet others will scorn and call it a “bag dress.” I on the other hand, love it and describe it as a non-conforming, breathable, with a tremendous comfort quotient, super-stylish dress. (I am entitled to my opinion, right? After all we do have the fundamental First Amendment right of Freedom of Speech.)
On the same day, as I was watching mindless television (in my very loose pajamas), I “inadvertently” ran into the Kardashian show. The television screen flashed images of the enticing Kim Kardashian squeezed into a super-tight-to the point of being bound and bandaged, abbreviated dress. She was the embodiment of sexuality. Every nook, cranny and curve of her voluptuous, buxomy frame was tightly crunched into the “bandage dress.”
And, no I did not conjure up the moniker of the “bandage dress.” Believe it or not, it is the official description of the Herve Leger contraption. A royal feat for women’s lib (no pun intended)!
I had no choice and was compelled to compare my “bag dress” with Kim’s “bandage dress.”
I do have to make a disclaimer here. I am in no way eschewing overt sexuality. Women have beautiful bodies and we work hard to keep them in shape. There is absolutely nothing wrong in flaunting our curves or wearing tight clothes. Deep down it satisfies the vanity of a woman to know that she has a body that can carry off (for a lack of a better term) a “bandage dress.” Fashion, a multi-billion dollar industry, rests upon gratifying this very desire for unequivocal sexuality.
However, time and again, I have been compelled to make an astute observation. An observation that bewilders me and makes me question the validity of it. Precisely the reason, why I am sharing my confusion with you today. Maybe you can infuse some semblance of clarity to my confusion.
When I look around, I notice that most women are very hesitant to wear loose clothes. Most women’s comfort zone is tight-fitted clothes. Case in point is jeans. I see one woman after another, no matter what their body size or shape, feel very comfortable in fitted jeans with a fitted shirt. In fact, the hesitation to wear loose clothes is so pervasive that my very first blog was devoted to it. (You can read it here, if you are interested.)
I am intrigued by the machinations of the female brain and what dictates their choice of a dress as tight as the “bandage dress” over a breathable, free-flowing, stylish albeit loose dress. Is it easier and quicker to put on as not much thought is required? Maybe, it is like jeans, a sort of “no-thinking” garment! Is it possible that such clothing is comfortable (although, the mere sight of the “bandage dress” makes me want to take a deep breath)! Does wearing a garment so tight impart confidence to a woman? Is it possible that women think they look fat when they wear loose clothes and make every effort to squeeze into a garment a size too small to look thin? Is a “bandage dress” not constricting for a woman? I refer to the term “constricting” in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Literally for the body and metaphorically for the spirit of a woman.
Even the term, “bandage dress” has connotations of oppression and subjugation. It’s ironic that after fighting for women’s rights for centuries, women continue to seek the “aid” of the “bandage dress” to prove their sexuality.
Questions, questions and more questions pop into my brain. Is it possible that a dress such as the “bandage dress” is worn to satisfy certain acceptable societal norms? Fashion magazines are riddled with the do’s and don’ts of fashion symmetry. Wearing loose clothes is always in the “don’t list,” no matter what your body type. If you are petite, you will get dwarfed and if you are fat you will look even fatter. So, sadly my poor loose “bag dress” is absolutely unacceptable as per societal fashion norms.
Women often come up to me and make this verbatim statement, “I love the loose dress you are wearing; I wish I had the guts to wear it.” Really, is it truly about guts? If so, what is stopping such women from wearing loose garments, despite the fact that they appreciate the beauty of it and even admire it on others. I don’t see anybody getting arrested for wearing loose clothes.
I work as a lawyer and I often hear my female peers comment upon “sexing up” their clothes to get a better result from the male Judge or the male opposing attorney. When I ask them to define “sexing up”, it always includes something “tight and short.” This information leads me to another direction, maybe we women have an ulterior, more sinister, a more practical reason for wearing the “bandage dress.” I mean, whatever it takes to get the work done, right!
Since, my blog is all about honesty, I will admit that when I wear tight clothes, I do get admirable glances from men, which is not the case when wearing my looser counter-parts.
If this is the case, do women dress up solely to please men? Do women derive a sense of self-worth and self-confidence only when admirable glances are thrown their way by the darker sex? Are women blatantly using their sexuality for ulterior motives? Are these the reasons that we do not have the ” guts” to wear loose clothes, even though we consider them stylish and attractive?
I know I am asking a multitude of questions, but this topic has intrigued me immensely and I would love to know your opinion. What is it for you, a “bandage or bag dress”? Or maybe as we say in legalese “it all depends.”
I live in Los Angeles. The land of dreams. The City of Angels. The Abode of Heavenly Bodies. Heavenly Bodies that appear to be ethereal and from another planet, orbiting in space.
They are beautiful, tight and taut. There is no sag or lag; no limpness or looseness; no flaccid or float. There is a hardness, a firmness not only in their bodies, but their smiles, laughs and expressions.
The expressions of bursting with joy; stricken with grief; shocked out of the wits; startled with surprise and an angry furrowed brow are obliterated. An even, mellow, unwavering prosaical expression replaces the above expressions.
I wonder at times, how does it feel to experience tightness in the facial muscles during a smile or when there is a mercurial rise of temper the inability to frown. Uncomfortable, I am sure.
Plastic surgery, Botox, Implants are as prevalent in Los Angeles as Bikram’s Yoga. It is anywhere and everywhere. An acceptable norm, not limited to the elite few but prevalent in the general masses. There are billboards according to ethnic geographical diversifications for nose jobs, boob jobs, nips, tucks, sucks, enhancements, padding and a surplus of dermatological jargon.
I am a realist and not an advocate of the dictum “beauty is from within.” I have seen many people with hearts of gold, but not necessarily “beautiful” in the socially acceptable meaning of the term. True, you can see the goodness in their faces, but physically not “beautiful.”
Therefore, I amenable to self “improvement”, making yourself look “better,” and deriving confidence from it. I am not against cosmetic plastic surgery. In fact, I am developing a deep crevice between my brows (which of course is due to my deep, reflective and pondering nature haha) that I could take care of and have deeply thought of it, with an intensely furrowed brow!
What abstains me from poking myself with a paralytic solution are the women below. Women who have embraced their age, their sag, their fissures and jiggles. These are women who of course, have been blessed with physical attributes to start with. But, their bodies and faces have succumbed to inevitable Aging. They are like the “ruins” of the coliseum in Rome, magnificent in its beauty despite the ravage. These women are resplendent with confidence and acceptance of who they are. They have accepted themselves with open arms, sans doubt.
Isabella Rossellini, the Italian model and actress with royal lineage. One of the most exquisite women in the world, at least for me. She is the daughter of Ingrid Bergman. Of course, she has the Mediterranean gene of great skin and hair, which cannot be discounted. But she embraces her toothy smile, lines on her face and bags under her eyes with splendor. She is dazzling.
Ines De La Fressage is a 52 year old Parisian model, the muse of Karl Lagerfeld at one time and bold enough to pose naked on a magazine cover and admit that it was photo shopped.
Louise Bourgeois, a sculptor, a painter, an artist. Imagine if Louise had cosmetic plastic surgery done. Would her face still narrate the enigmatic story of her life, her idiosyncratic nature and her adventures? No. Her face would be like a stretched piece of hide, storyless, lifeless and comatose.
Do whatever it is to make you feel like a Heavenly Body. But, at the back of your mind remember the spectacular “ruins” of the coliseum, not perfect but grand.
I have always prided myself for my individualism. I do not adhere to collectivism, group projects, morphous activities. My stance, philosophy and outlook in life is to be unique and fluid. I think different, eat different, dress different from most others-that is what I have been told on multiple occasions by many.
I am not lauding or commending my behavior, but simply stating a fact. Many may even think of me as weird, eccentric or even an oddity. Come to think of it, they may even be right!
I have always interpreted individualism as being unique, non-conformist and away from the herd. A thing that is tested and tried is not for me. I want to be the pioneer, the heralder, the leader. Whether anyone wishes to follow me or not is a whole different issue!
I make tall tales and claims as to how I am so different, so unique, so exclusive.
Is that really true though?
Yesterday, I was looking at a beautiful shot on the blog of my very dear friend Lee Oliveira. It was a Vogue worthy, artistic shot of a man’s bottom half only, wearing Christian Louboutin shoes and a Burberry bag. I was inspired enough to bring out my Loubies, wear the cropped pants and carry a monstrous tote.
I was inspired after seeing the photo shot by Lee Oliveira and the following question crossed my mind: Do I adhere to individualism in the purest, truest, most uncontaminated sense? Is the inception of my individualism truly from “My Self” or do I use inspiration to adapt to my individualism?
For instance take fashion, did the outfit that I put together truly originate from the inner being of my soul, never done before and unprecedented? In stark honesty the answer is NO, of course not. I was inspired from something, someone or somewhere consciously or sub-consciously.
The greatest artists, musicians and sculptors although fierce in their individualism, seek inspiration from outside. For example, my favorite artist Henri Matisse was inspired by Gauguin and Van Gogh; John Lennon was inspired by the most unique jazz singer Nina Simone; and in today’s times the controversial Lady Gaga is definitely inspired by Madonna!
So, the theory of stark individualism that I have adhered to all my life proves to be a fallacy. It falls flat on its face. Yes, there is individualism, we all have it and we all should develop it to be unique. But we cannot take sole credit for our individualism, as in the shadows is always lurking inspiration.
Even before I knew what the name Anika meant, I paid Anika a compliment on the softness on her face. Her expression is angelic and winsome; bright and clear, for all to see. Then, I read that Anika means “Sweet Face.” Hence, dispensing the adage, “what is in a name?” Anika’s name is a window to her soul. The gentle expression on her face and the kindness in her expressive eyes are aptly in keeping with the meaning of her name-Sweet Face.
Anika’s blogs are evident of a blogger on a journey of self-worth and improvement. She has been through many upheavals in her life, but her writing and blogs are devoid of any cynicism or agendas. In fact, she comes out to be a strong and confident woman constantly on the virtuous path of self-realization. Her blogs are thoughtful and introspective. For example she recently posted a blog on “The art of not feeling threatened by the beauty of others.” She makes a self-admission as to how once upon a time she was threatened by beautiful women, but developed self-value, overcame negative thoughts and now admires beautiful women. Anika is mindful and gracious.
What is most appealing about Anika is the generosity of her spirit and big heart. She single-handedly proves that the more one gives, the more one receives. She features other bloggers on her site selflessly and with no thought of making herself the “Star” of her blog. She promotes other bloggers and spreads the love. Of course, the love comes back to her in many folds as I see her name as one of the most mentioned names on the #FF (Friend Friday) list!
She is a motivational and uplifting fashion blogger, worth following! (byanika.com)
Thank you Anika for making me the recipient of your love and generosity and featuring me on your blog.
The first two words that crossed my mind when I started writing a blog on Muslim fashion were Oppression and Expression. As I tried to build the blog around these two pillars, I realized that the two words are truly the essence of a woman, in particular a Muslim woman.
When we think of Muslim women in today’s post-Bin Laden world, what is the first word that comes to our mind? I would think that the unanimous answer will be Oppression. What is the first image that seeps into our mind? Most likely of a woman wrapped in yards and mounds of cloth, eyes peeking from between the wrapped clothing, head bowed. Whether you call it a burqa, hijab or an ayab, it is binding, restricting and suffocating.
Of course, I absolutely realize and am aware of the fact, that there are many liberated, emancipated Muslim women who do not wear the head/body covering and some who even choose to wear it of their own free will without any Oppression whatsoever. However, the majority’s perception of a Muslim woman is that of being oppressed and bound, literally and metaphorically.
Oppression is not restricted only to Muslim women. Women from times immemorial have struggled to express themselves and attain their individuality. Women have faced struggles in all walks of life-the first woman on the Supreme Court Bench, the first woman to be the CEO of a fortune 500 company, the first woman who was allowed into the Gentleman’s Club, the first woman who has yet not become the President of the United States. Recent studies have clearly shown that the fairer sex is the lower wage earner for similar positions held by both the genders.
It has been a long, winding struggle and continues to be a struggle for women, hence the expression “the glass ceiling.” Have we women truly broken the glass ceiling or only made a fissure in it?
Yet, as women we all have the innate desire to express ourselves, our individuality and our essence. A Western woman may exercise that expression by wearing a bold Herve Leger bandage dress (an irony indeed that an emancipated woman needs to wear a bandaged dress to be bound and the bound woman wants to be free.)
The more demure Muslim woman, who is bound by centuries of traditions, customs and culture, will probably express herself by lining her beautiful eyes with dark, dark kohl and place intricate henna designs on her hands and feet. After all, for some such women, only the eyes and the tips of the extremities are the exposed body parts.
For the more unfettered Muslim woman, for example from the United Arab Emirates, the Expression is seen in a peek of the expensive Jimmy Choo or Roger Vivier heels or a quick flash of the Cartier tiger bracelet on the delicate wrist or the limited edition, diamond encrusted Fendi glasses forming a part of the shield along with the hijab.
All these women are manifesting their Expression, one in an unflinching and self-assured way and the other with a timid defiance.
Someday, the “veil” will be pierced forever; not only for Muslim women, but women in general. No more glass ceilings to break, no Oppression, only Expression.
Some may argue that even though interpretation may be individual, certain universal basics, a foundation, an order needs to be there for the inception of art. Beyond that the artist can take creative license to express his or her views.
Non-conformist that I am, I am willing to go as far as to even dispense with the above theory of foundational art. After all, if there are universal parameters, dictums and precedence then where is the originality, the expression and the true tour de force art.
My most cherished designer Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel directed the latest film, The Tale of a Fairy for the 2011-12 cruise collection. As is the signature of the master couturier the movie is dripping, oozing and drenched in luxury almost bordering on hedonism. Whether it is the colonial Parisian mansion with the silent-footed bevy of maids and butlers or the “actors” walking in the house with a cascade of Chanel pearls around their long necks wearing signature white and black Chanel pumps making their 6 feet lanky frames reach towering and withering heights. Whether it is the impromptu trip to Monte Carlo or an almost on-the-verge of an orgy on the French Riviera. It is all there.
There are beautiful girls kissing each other, a waif who looks like an angel and an element of surrealism. In fact, all the elements of a good Hollywood blockbuster are blended into the film.
So then what is so wrong, so very wrong with the film? Well, the simple answer is the lack of a story, a script and a backbone to the film. The story centers around three women, one who is hysterical through the whole movie, the other solely there to provide the international element with her well-modulated British accent and the third for the hot and steamy girl kiss. The story borders on being cheesy and entering into the realm of being ridiculous.
What redeems the movie is the physicality of the cast. Two of the lead actors are in their mid and late 40s. The girls are androgynous without the essential prerequisite Hollywood bust and lip enhancement. It is antithesis to Hollywood casting. It defies all traditional norms of established standards of beauty.
The silver-haired, 40-some year old Kristen McMenaney with her pierced nose and bouffant hair gives any 20 year-old run for her money.
Freja Beha in her underwear is reminiscent of Kate Moss in her very young and best days for the Calvin Klein ads.
In summary, even when Karl Lagerfeld does something less than his trademark perfection, a little oops, a faux pas-somehow it is interpreted as art. In this film, the physical attributes of the cast of “actors” redeems Lagerfeld’s movie from entering the Girls gone Wild genre.
Life is all about the small pleasures. It is the small treats that make the difference between a difficult day and a pleasant day, between a mundane life and a stimulating life. Realistically, the big moments in our lives are very few and far between, if any. Think about it—how many times do we win the million dollar lottery?; or how many times are we elected as the President or Prime Minister of a country?; or how many times do we receive a standing ovation from a theater full of people reciting in unison, “Encore, Encore” while building it up to a crescendo? Alas, never in my case (although I am trying to adopt the new-age theory of positivity and religiously strive to use the mantra of yes, I can make it all happen; yes, I deserve all the best; and yes, I have the power within me…) I will let you know how the mantra works for me down the road. If it does, you might just see me in the pages of Vogue, as that is the energy I am sending out into the universe, and in particular to one specific shining star named Ms. Anna Wintour.
So, while I am awaiting the receipt of an e-mail in my inbox from the illustrious Ms. Wintour, I make efforts to infuse my daily life with petite pleasures. For me, a blissful moment is when I get a “surprise package” in the mail. Okay, true, the “surprise package” has a bill that is waiting to be paid by my credit card. But the joy I experience in receiving the small package far surpasses the ugly monstrous head of the credit card statement at the end of the month. Realistically, since these are small pleasures the damage to my wallet is minimal and the joy is maximum. (I like this equation; it is equivalent to minimum input and maximum output.)
The small packages contain wonderfully smelling lotions and potions, wrapped in beautiful packages, some with exotic foreign languages on the label that I enjoy reading with the help of Google translate.
I am a big proponent of web-shopping and have web-shopped for years. I love the joy of sitting in my comfy PJs, sipping a hot steaming cup of coffee, with only the click of a key between me and what I describe as euphoric ecstasy.
Today I want to share with you a few of my favorite beauty products and the sites I have used for years to provide me “petite pleasures.” I promise you it will be as good as shopping on Via Condotti in Rome—well, almost!
10 Corso Como
The brainchild of Carla Sozzani. Yes, she is the sister of the editor-in-chief of Vogue Italia, Franca Sozzani. It is one of the hottest perfumes in Milano. Imagine the style quotient of the perfume—two Sozanni sisters from Milano, and both associated with Vogue Italia…could it be any more fashionable!! (This truly calls for two exclamation marks.)
Spuma di Sciampagna
Luxury bath products from Italy. Try the bath foam (yes, a very European concept) and the perfumed soap packaged in a beautiful, clean, quintessentially Italian packing. Good enough to eat.
Avene Thermal Spray
A face spray, so refreshing that it seems you are standing under the fountains in Versailles. It gives the face a dewy glow that lasts almost all day. I have received many compliments on my skin after using the spray. It works very well after the application of make-up. It is my equivalent to a cheap microdermabrasion.
Rescue nail polish
Rescue has modern, cutting edge colors. My favorite is the Concrete Jungle. It is an asphalt, cement color, very similar to the latest “it” Chanel Le Vernis nail polish, without the hefty price tag.
For the worry warts like me who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and frown even while sleeping, Frownies are the most natural alternative to Botox or other draconian measures of controlling facial lines. It is analogous to applying a piece of tape on your frown lines while you sleep, and not uncomfortable at all. Sadly, Frownies train only the facial muscles, and not the brain muscles, to be worry free.
Lorac Sheer Wash
I have used the tinted cheek wash for years as the stain creates a natural flush that lasts all day, even after my sporadic exercise sessions. To top it all, it is very mild and not oily at all like blush gels or creams. This is a boon for a person like me with oily skin.
Rice paper tissues
If you are “blessed” with oily skin like mine, or just want a refreshed look during the mid-day slump, use the all-natural Rice paper tissues. The packaging is adorable and comes in a petite package with a sketch of a Japanese woman on it. Yes, it even has aesthetic value. The tissues absorb the oil on the skin, without removing the make-up or depositing any chemicals. They leave the face with an air-brushed look and you will be compelled to say, “I am ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.”
So, revel in the petite pleasures and the jubilance you will experience will make you shout out, “encore, encore!”
Trav-el: To move, to go, to transmit, to transport, to journey, to proceed. All forward moving acts…and for me all done with style and elegance.
I was at the airport today and as is my true nature, I observed. I surveyed harried travelers pushing their U.S. 20 dollar unsightly brown, red and black Rexene suitcases tied with equally dull ropes, tapes or cords on metallic trolleys. I observed travelers dressed in their ungainly worst in sweat pants, the most worn (surely comfortable) t-shirts, drab exercise shoes and nylon bags. They were ubiquitous and omnipresent!!
It was a lacklustrous sight and definitely did not invoke any glamorous feelings such as “wanderlust.” In fact, I was saddened by the lack of care, thought and style put into traveling. It made me think, has traveling become so cumbersome for us as a society that we try to look and dress our very worst? I mean taking a 23 hour flight to another continent does take a toll on one’s hair and skin, but can’t we make it somewhat of a pleasant experience by infusing some style, grace and flair to it? Can we halt the dullness in an already dull journey?? The suitcases below invoke supreme images of drab.
I perfectly know and understand that all of us can’t afford a 4,000 dollar luggage set. But, at least we can be inspired by it. So here we go, picture and imagine this on your next trip and start building your travel kit. Less or more money…does not matter. What matters is the taste you have!
Too bad travel by ship is obsolete, otherwise who can resist the beautiful Louis Vuitton trunks? A truly regal sight to behold!
In modern times at least go for stylish, soft luggage infused with a pattern or color.
On a long flight nothing feels so good against your tired and dried skin as cashmere. The comfort you will derive from your own soft and clean blanket will far outweigh the cost of it.
Pamper yourself with a few extras to add swagger and verve to your mood! (In fact, you will brighten the day of your fellow traveler as well.) My bag always consists of a good soft lotion that smells divine. I love the Shea butter in the L’Occitane lotion (just the word butter makes me go ummmmm!)
A hydrating spray for the face not only softens the skin, but wakes up tired eyes, without using the germy loo!
A lip salve in an old-fashioned tin smelling of roses to moisten the lips in the arid airplane air.
An Italian hand blended perfume that refreshes not only you, but brings a whiff of pleasure to your fellow passenger as well. Inspired by original 16th century secret formulas commissioned by Caterina de Medici, “i Profumi di Firenze” perfumes.
Okay, you hipsters might scoff, but I am an old-fashioned girl and love to keep myself fresh with talcum powder. I know you may say it is a grandmotherly product and sooo outdated, but try it on a long flight to freshen not only your intimate parts, but to luxuriate in its softness and freshness!! Can you resist the old-fashion charm of the Italian talc, “Boro Talco”?
Buon viaggio my friends and may the style be with you always!
Hair style is the final tip-off of whether or not a woman really knows herself. Hubert de Givenchy, Vogue, July 1985.
Well, I truly KNOW myself!! That’s my head with the shortest, cropped hair that I absolutely love, love and love!! I am confident in my look and turn many a heads, might I say mostly with admiration, some with intrigue, others with quizzical amazement and yet others with “what the ***&$$*!!!” To the latter of those I say “I KNOW myself and am COMFORTABLE with myself. I have the guts to NON-CONFORM!!” Monsieur Givenchy would have been proud of me.
Women with short hair have raised many a points of debate and controversies. Are they attractive, unattractive, cute, un-feminine, gay, getting up there in age, trying to make a point in the “man’s world” etc. etc.
None of the short-haired women below are within 10 miles of a negative connotation because of their short hair. They are simply stunning, striking, ravishing and spectacular!
Face it, the idea of long, lustrous, thick hair, flowing in the breeze is drilled in our psyche as children. I mean take a look at Barbie, her hair is the most prominent part of her anatomy (other than her “ample plastic bosom”)
Even our fairy tales narrate stories of the beautiful princesses’ with mile long hair, a la Rapunzel!
It is true that a short-haired woman can have oomph of sexiness, but she will have much fewer guys hit on her than a homey looking girl with long hair.
What is the psychology behind it? 99.9% of men love women with long hair. The long, lustrous hair flying in the wind is their ultimate fantasy. Check out any beer commercial and you will see a long haired, leggy woman miraculously caught in a wind storm. Rather amusing!
Most men are intimidated by short haired women as they think that such women are stronger and more independent. They do not portray the virginal, helpless, “girl-like” qualities associated with a woman with long hair. A man feels helpless as he cannot “rescue” or for a lack of a better term “control” her.
In the same vein, most women dress to please a man and attract the male attention. Nothing wrong with that, but somewhere in the process they lose their own identities, individualities and sense of self-worth.
Take a look at the women below. Would they be this stunning with long hair? I think not. Halle Berry is a prime example; she looks “plain” with long hair and “ravishing” with short hair.
Take a cue from Anton Chekov who said, when a woman isn’t beautiful, people always say, “You have lovely eyes, you have lovely hair.” So, when someone is complimenting your hair it is not necessarily a “compliment!”
Now, mind you, I am not a die-hard, man-hating feminist. I love the male attention just the same as the next girl. But, I want women to be bold and to experiment with their look. I want them to live for themselves. I want them to take fashion risks. So what if they fail? After all it is only hair and will grow back. I want them to derive their self-worth from deep within and not solely base it on their physicality. I want WOMEN TO NON-CONFORM and BE!