Move Over, Carrie: On Turning Heads

September 20, 2014

Move Over, Carrie is a when-I-feel-like-it series inspired by taking the wit, 
wisdom and discussion of SATC one step farther. It's your relationships, your life... today.
I was leaving a bar the other night when I caught a man staring at me. Just staring. He was about forty years old. Nondescript. Normal, suburban male. My reaction was immediate fear. I was clearly heading for the door, keys in hand and his stare stopped me in my tracks. Was it safe to leave alone? There were a lot of people between me and the parking garage... but was that enough?
I decided to keep heading out, but when I turned around to look both ways before crossing the street I saw that he had left to. I started getting anxious, really anxious. I quickened my steps, and was shocked when the man passed me on my left -- accompanied by two female friends. He slowed down as he passed and said, "That dress fits you like a glove. You look gorgeous." His two female friends smiled, and then they were off. 
And my first reaction was 
I forgot I could turn heads. 
And that made me sad. 
I felt sad for myself that I had forgotten I was capable of turning heads. That deep down, I had forgotten I was beautiful. There are so many things women think of now when they hear the word "beauty." 
Beauty is fit. 
Beauty is strong. 
Beauty is skinny. 
Beauty is natural. 
Beauty is healthy. 
Beauty is classic. 
Beauty is timeless. 
Beauty is trendy. 
Beauty is neutrals. 
Beauty is... you. 
And that's what we forget the most. I've read so many Pinterest quotes that I quite literally had convinced myself that I couldn't be beautiful because I wasn't fit or strong enough, and I certainly wasn't working on those two things so therefor I couldn't possibly be beautiful or on my way to beautiful. Other women do this unfortunate mind warp too, but maybe with other things -- not skinny, not curvy, not something. 
And I felt sad that a woman's first reaction to catching a man looking at her is to be scared. To instantly assume that another human is either going to hurt you or degrade you... that's sad. 
Wasn't that really one of the most important lessons of Carrie, after all? For all her crazy outfits... wasn't it about walking into a room and having the class and composure and confidence to know that you were possible of turning heads? Not in a conceited way, but a confident way of knowing your own skin and being comfortable in it. Of appreciating yourself from the inside out, in a way that radiates across the room. 
I hope I remember this. 

What distracts your from remembering the real definition of beauty? 

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Frands, Sweet Frands

September 17, 2014

Finding a good wingman these days is impossible. Finding my once on-point flirting skills these days is equally impossible.

I ventured out with some most beloved cohorts/friends/classmates/actual friends for some drinks after class.
Let's start by saying, I was wearing some killer shoes. Snakeskin ballet flats with yoga pants? I was clearly at the top of my game and ready to mingle. Fortunately for us, we had a super hot waiter and I was instantly like "let me practice being back on the market with your fiiiiine flannel-clad self!"

 I turned to my friend Chris, desperate for a wingman.

"What do you want me to do? 
Drop the napkin by your shoe so he'll pick it up 
and start talking about snakeskin?" 
Ummmm if you think that will work...yes.
He told me this wouldn't work (but I still don't believe him). 
I even suggested maybe we could all drop our napkins at the same time 
(which would look super weird, but also help make sure I wasn't hitting on a gay guy again),
 but Chris still said no.

So I took it on myself.

He came over to fill all three of our waters, PERFECT time to catch him in some conversation.

"So," I said boldly, "busy night?"
"Uhm well it's a Monday so not really."

And then I faceplanted in my drink. Like literally did not acknowledge his answer verbally, just slowly slunk down to my straw until he walked away.

Except not at all. Not at all this smooth.

Hanna and Chris refused to speak. Chris literally spit his water out and just waved his arms. That bad. Guys, I am so bad at flirting.

But I have frands and I have snakeskin ballet flats and that's all a girl really needs, right?

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