Metallic pale pink, pale pink Guess sneakers. Perfectly styled hair, light makeup. I was minding my business, headed across town to the beauty supply store. It was a beautiful, late spring day in 2019.
I really just wanted to get out of the house. I needed a moment. Truly, I didn’t feel like myself.
I loaded off the bus, then headed to the train platform when a young man saw me.
“Wow,” he said, looking me over, “you are gorgeous. You’re famous, huh?”
I immediately frowned, my glasses hiding part of my expression. What did that matter? I worked hard in my career. But to be asked a question, by a complete stranger rocked me a little.
“I guess. Did you want something?”
He ignored the obvious – that I was onto him and whatever game he was trying.
“I was wondering if we could exchange information…”
I briefly looked his outfit over – shamelessly. Then our eyes met. Jordans. Multiple chains. Oversized tee. Not sure why this person thought we’d make a good match. It occurred to me I was casually dressed…no flowers today.
My Nine West handbag, highlighted hair, and sheer pink lipgloss weren’t getting the point across. To him, I looked like the average African American female statistic. He removed my morals in his mind, and actually thought this would work.
“No,” I said plainly, “I’m taken.”
“We can be friends,” he greased out.
I threw up a little in my mouth.
“No, no thank you.”
His stance shifted, my train was coming. He couldn’t believe I shot him down. He shook his head, clicked his tongue and glared at me before walking off.
“You look stuck up anyway. I don’t know why you think you’re so special.”
Because I am, I thought.
I’m glad he left. I began formulating that perhaps my appearance should be taken up a notch now. So the next time I left the house, I looked almost untouchable.
Pointed toe shoes, pale pink, satin spaghetti strap top with lace trim, and ankle length wide leg pale pink pants. Same jacket I previously described. And to top it off, large frame rose gold rimmed sunglasses.
I approached the bus stop and assumed I’d have to stand. The fellow taking up the bench jumped up and dusted the bench off. I was alarmed, but sat down, grateful for that.
He didn’t speak or look my way. When the bus was coming, he waved me down and let me on first as well,
A major contrast. When I looked like a walking peony, the behavior from this person was different. When I was comfortable, I was more approachable. That’s when I realized the approach to how I dressed would dictate my energy and shift the energy around me.
The last outfit demanded respect, even though I wore it more so because it was beautiful. It was feminine, easy to maneuver in, and it was also elegant. I received a lot of compliments, and not a single person tried to hit on me.
When I wore jeans, sweats or sneakers…it was a different story. People were disrespectful, or disgusting in a lot of cases. So I began to play with it.
It wasn’t just my clothing, though. My hair, makeup , even if I were listening to music created a vibration in different scenarios. The more feminine and untouchable I looked, the less likely the average man would try talking to me.
This has to do with the vibration carried on from the choice in attire down to the lipgloss. Not to demean anyone, or make the next person jealous. I was trying to look unfathomable.
It worked for a time, but I didn’t always have the resources. Or, I would allow someone into my universe who didn’t belong, and they would try to destroy whatever I built up. I had to learn to go without, or, in recent years…pick up old crafts (like sewing and crocheting.)
Within that construct, I created ensembles that helped with the original thought even more. No one wants to approach a woman who looks as though they’re cared for. The vibration is different.
I took from the old, and collaborated with the new when I came to the realization that I was gradually moving into hyper femininity. It is not for everyone, I understand that. But the times I felt most comfortable and protected is when I felt unreachable.
Not because I wore anything designer or expensive, because it appeared I cared deeply for myself.
One doesn’t need to wear flowers to achieve that. But I am planting a seed.
I will continue more on this series, my stories about the choices I made against being feminine, and a woman. I want to explore what each decision created, and where I landed on past that!
The Heiress JCS 