beauty and sex appeal

image via plasticknife

My good friend Sara is a model. She is drop dead gorgeous and very talented. She is also what the fashion industry refers to as plus-sized. She's got a killer figure a la Christina Hendricks, which is, I'm sure I can attest, something that many, many, many men (and women, of course) find attractive.

Sara has an album of photographs on her Facebook filled with beautiful plus-sized models, sort of as an inspiration and motivator for her modeling career. Many of these models are dressed in little clothing, most in lingerie, some in the classic pin-up style. I think they look beautiful and sexy and va-va-voom.

A friend of ours made a comment (well, it was more of an essay, because she is a writer and therefore, naturally, verbose *points to self*), regarding the view that these women were beautiful. She brought up that she personally does not find this kind of "beauty" attractive, as these women are clearly still there for the sexual appreciation of men. She said that women wear stockings and garters and corsets because these are the stuff of men's fantasies, and such items are tailored for the preferences of men. And that these women are portraying themselves as "slutty" or "trashy."

While I can see her point, what I do not agree with is the idea that wearing these items only make us feel beautiful because it makes men want us. I personally love wearing things that show off my figure, be it a nipped-in waist through corsetry or stockings that make my legs look a mile long. Knowing that I'm rocking an hourglass look gives me confidence. Wearing something that hides my figure makes me feel as if I'm hiding which just sucks the life out of me. Might be my inner Big Ol' Attention Whore(tm), but I like to be noticed.

It's not just men who appreciate a beautiful woman, after all. We can't pretend that men are the only reason we like to put on corsets and sweep on mascara.

Actually, if we could just not blame the men altogether, that would be great. Do they like us in corsets and vampy red lipstick? Of course. Rawr. You know what they like better? Us completely naked wrapped in a sheet, with our hair crazy and disheveled on a pillow and nothing but the morning sunlight on our face.

So, let's just rule that out, shall we?

Let me be clear; I do not think women should have to dress a certain way. I think that all women should dress in a way that makes the feel comfortable, and better yet, confident. Whether it be in a corset and pencil skirt with sky-high stilettos, or in sandals, a swooshy dress and cardigan, it's about you, baby, and if they don't like it, they can kiss your stylish ass.

I think that what really hit me about my friend's comment is that it kind of came down on women who enjoy the pin-up style, who enjoy modeling and showing off what God was kind enough to give them. That beauty is only beauty if it is not sexualized at all, and that men should be ashamed of themselves for being attracted to a woman who prefers catsuits to caftans.

Sex can be beautiful. It doesn't have to be slow, sensual love-making in order to count as an adult, respect-filled act. If a girl wants to dress up in a naughty sailor costume for her man, and he still shows her respect and love and devotion, who is to say that this is a demeaning relationship? Wearing something skimpy doesn't make her a whore, it doesn't degrade her, unless it's something she's uncomfortable with.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as cliché and well...lame as that may sound. What I deem as beautiful may seem tawdry and classless to some, while what they deem beautiful may appear drab to my tastes. I guess that what I want taken from this article is that while I love my friend, I found myself being hurt by her comments, because I am the type of woman who gravitates towards sexy silhouettes and five-inch heels. I am the kind of woman who likes to put on ruffles and lace for my man because it makes me feel powerful and attractive and puts a smile on his face. Does that mean I'm a slave to men's lustful influence? Hell no. The guys I date have seen me unshowered, makeupless, and trouncing around in their sweatpants before. Am I going to let a man degrade me to the point that I'm uncomfortable with it? Absolutely not.

Beauty is not about purity and hiding yourself. It isn't about showing yourself off. It's about loving yourself and accepting what you are and what you like and having that love absolutely pour out of you. Because one of the most beautiful things in the world is a confident woman, and the best way to destroy that confidence? Other women bringing her down when she feels beautiful.

So, ladies, please, I beg of you: when your friend is wearing something, or showing you something, and you can tell that it is so important to her and makes her feel beautiful or inspired, even if it's not your cup of tea, revel in the beauty of her happiness. Women have enough self-esteem issues in the world without us turning on each other.

Every single woman (and man, of course, if there are any out there;) ) is absolutely beautiful, and deserves to feel that way. Do NOT let someone brings you down when you're feeling as lovely as I know you are.


♥ Em

the secret life of glitter

image via rayleah

This article is dedicated to my dear friend Mary, and her never-ending discovery of glitter in her house despite not owning anything with glitter on or in it.

I feel like I confuse a lot of people with my gender roles. I don’t mean that I’m gender-neutral, because I am very physically feminine and show that off more than some people are comfortable with (pants are not mandatory in fashion, darling). I mean that my interests are practically bipolar on the gender scale.

I love snakes. I still get visibly excited when presented with old-school Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers toys (ask my friend Ryan how high-pitched my voice got when he busted out the five original Rangers action figures MINT IN BOX). I still have all of my comic books and superhero trading cards (STAN LEE FANGIRL FOR LIFE). I love hockey, especially the fights. I shoot whiskey like it ain’t no thing. I can help butcher a deer without wincing, and catch crawfish with my bare hands. I laugh at fart jokes and make very inappropriate, non-lady-like comments.

I also love pink. It’s my favorite color, and if I could have hot pink hair, I would do a happy dance of happy like you would not BELIEVE. I played Barbies extensively, and collected them as well. I have more eye shadow shades in my current makeup collection than most women have in their lives. I enjoy running around in flouncy skirts and stilettos, I love getting laced into a corset, and I like to be considered pretty.

And I. Freaking. Love. Glitter.

Oh my God, you guys, glitter? Call me crazy, but I want to coat everything in glitter and just be perpetually blinded when the sun bounces of it every surface ever because it is so damn pretty.

Here’s the thing, though. Glitter is a PAIN. It is called the herpes of arts and crafts, because you can never get rid of it. Wear glitter eyeliner one day, wash it off. Or so you think. Next day, you’re outside, sun comes out, FLARE UP. Your boyfriend is now blinded by the light because you tried batting your eyes coquettishly at noon.

I am the happiest when I have glittery nail polish. Seriously, it can brighten my mood from a one to an eight. Not a ten, though, because it’s just my nails, ya’ll, let’s not be ridiculous. I seriously catch myself being distracted by my nails at work when I have glitter polish on. Type type type…type………type…………sparkly.

It’s borderline ridiculous. Much like my personality.

And I’m KNOWN for it. At my roommate’s birthday party, my friend came up to me, gave me a hug, then literally tore himself from my arms, looking down, horrified, and said “Did you get glitter on my suit?”

I wasn’t even WEARING glitter, and he expects to walk away looking like he got face-humped by a fairy.

And just to make this post useful to you, my readers...

The trick to getting glittery nail polish off, without just cutting off your fingers because WTF?GLITTER, is to soak the nails in acetone. Bad for your skin? Horrible. But you know what, it works quickly, and I’m not one to be patient. My trick is to take some acetone polish remover, soak cotton balls with it, slap them over my nails, then cover each fingertip with tin foil. Leave them like that for five minutes or so, then take them off, and wipe them clean with another remover-soaked cotton ball. Voila!