Listening to: At Last: Can’t Touch This – MC Hammer (heck yeah…)
Mood: Irritated with Dude on the other end of my ball and chain
Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I don’t talk all that much. No seriously. I’m the quiet one taking it all in and…scheming. I’m perfectly happy like that. Unless I’ve been drinking, then all bets are off and I am tons of fun. I have times when I just have nothing to blog about, and then I have times when it seems like stuff just pours out of my mind via my fingers on a constant basis. Everything is funny, and everything needs to be expressed. I’m in one of those times right now, so you might as well enjoy it – I will lapse into radio silence sooner or later.
So the husband and I have been having negotiations as of late as to what is kosher for me to be wearing. For some reason, this is extraordinarily important to him. Before we left the states, anything and everything that could remotely be construed as sexy was either given away or summarily put in storage at my mom’s house. Saris and salwars have been embargoed except for special party situations, which we will not find ourselves in until we make some friends. I have also been banned from walking around looking like a boy. Whatever. Look baby, I don’t care how many times the 80’s call and request their tee shirts back. They can pry them out of my cold dead fingers in 80 years or so. We’ve uneasily settled on Indian tops and non-tight jeans which is a good thing for me. Since I’ve lost weight, I can’t seem to find any tight jeans in my closet anyhow. This is indeed something amazing for me.
There are times when I put down my foot and wear what I think it appropriate for the situation I find myself it. Let me explain. I am a Guns and Roses Freak. I love the music, the attitude, and my black Appetite for Destruction teeshirts. Certain activities here elicit a need to project an image that I am best left alone and not messed with. Wearing a black teeshirt with smoking skulls certainly fits the bill here. Taxis are a good example, walking next to construction guys another. I’ve found that when I dress a certain way, people just leave me alone because who really wants to mess with the crazy firangi (foreign) girl wearing a scary teeshirt. Wearing local clothes just invites too much innocent curiosity which at times has turned into cat calling and interest I just don’t want. So yes. The teeshirts stay.
I think it’s important for a woman who is functioning on her own to be aware of how she dresses. I’m in no way saying that how a woman dresses excuses the way a man behaves – that’ s just bull shit. What I’m saying is that if you don’t want to be messed with, a slightly more edgy look is better than a helpless feminine one. I don’t know if I would ever walk down the street in a sari into the village next door to us, even with my husband right next to me. It just seems to be borrowing trouble. I don’t need the cab/auto drivers to look at me like a woman. I need them to leave me the hell alone and get me where I want to go. I can understand that my husband wants to see me as a girl and it will be important if we are hanging around with people he deems important to look a certain way. Even though every cell in my body rebels against doing something because society expects it, I am also a realist in that you have to take your spouse’s wants and needs into account too. I’ve decided that the tee shirts stay, because they definitely have a function too.