Sometimes, we get dragged to parties. Well not so much parties as they are delightful soirees, usually to promote such and such, or so and so. We aren’t ones to attend and tell. Let’s just say it was the kind of party where you go simply to brush up on your table manners, and remember the difference between wine glasses, main course, fish course, dessert etc. But it’s not all work and no play. We love these kinds of things because we get to wear our car to curb stilettos, and pull out mormor’s pearls. (That’s grandma in Danish, put it in your back pocket it’ll prove useful sometime)
However, just cause it’s a party doesn’t mean it won’t rain on your parade. Imagine the shock of learning that upon leaving it is an utter deluge. Little rivers have sprung up where there were once streets, and we are almost positive that a gondola is going to pass at any moment. Okay, perhaps the description is more that a little dramatic. But a girl heading to her car with no umbrella? Of course we are convinced it was a flash flood, our drenched hair seemed like proof enough. Valet was backed up; and running in the rain beats standing and waiting in the rain; besides it was over our dead bodies that evil rain was going to destroy our favorite vintage silk Chanel’s. So we take them off and decide to make a mad dash for it, valet had more than willingly handed off our keys to us. With a program overhead attempting to protect the black dress, heels in hand we bolt for through the parking lot, when lo and behold we notice that we are being watched. Not creepy stalker watched, but Duran Duran kind of watched (You know – Hungry like the wolf?)
We turn and flash a smile, “Enjoying the show?”
“Yep. I am watching this. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” We laugh because the whole exchange is absurd and continue to run to safety.
To answer your question yes, he pulled around and offered his number. But the bigger thing was the word choice: Sexy. We don’t know about you, but sexy isn’t what usually is the adjective chosen when talking about being barefoot in pearls. In fact, when do we use the term sexy?
While we wish there was some owners manual for being a sexy woman to hand out, unfortunately there isn’t. And however ironic it would be, there was no pamphlet distributed about being sexy alongside women’s suffrage literature in the early 1900’s. Women for years have been taking elixirs, dressing up and down, cooking roasts and reading Cosmo all in hopes of knowing the sure fire way of being sexy. But after all that, what is sexy?
You ask a hundred women you’ll get 100 answers, you ask 100 men you will get 100 more. We have a Venezuelan friend who swears the sexiest thing you can do is “Hold a woman all night as you salsa, being close like that.” We know some companies that swear being sexy is wearing their lingerie in holiday themed colors. We hear that wearing the pants is sexy, that little black dresses are sexy. And we know stilettos are sexy. But alas we have decided that being sexy is like being gorgeous, a great adjective that is a very fluid concept. So we look to the ultimate woman of sex.
Marilyn Monroe. The crazy thing is, she didn’t want to be a sex symbol. Which is when it hit us, like lightning in our very sexy rain encounter. Not wanting to be a sex symbol was what in fact made her sexy. When you watch Marilyn on screen, she is utter seduction. But she wasn’t doing it for a guy. She wasn’t trying to turn someone on. She knew what it took to do that, and she did it. But when she was at her most potent, that dizzyingly sexy spellbinding greatest, you get this feeling. The feeling after watching take after take of her skirt blowing up around her knees, that she wasn’t enjoying it for the viewer, or a man. She was enjoying her sexiness for herself. It was all for her. She enjoyed her body for herself. She got made up because she liked the way it made her feel.
It makes a girl think. Maybe sexy is as simple as running in the rain. Maybe being a sex symbol is as simple as deciding you are one. And maybe we should start wearing pearls more often, you know, in case of rain.
Love you, Mean It…
