Pencil skirts.
Crossing my legs and letting a high-heel pump dangle from the tip of my stockinged foot.
Carrying a purse—my purse.
Taking a compact from it to touch up my makeup.
Wearing high heels.
Hearing the click of those heels as I walk.
Being called “Ma’am.”
Better yet… being called “Miss.”
Wrap dresses.
A complete stranger stopping to say, “I like your dress,” or compliment something else I’m wearing.
Shopping in a clothing store that opens a dressing room just for me—and displays my name on the door.
Shopping, period.
When a man holds the door open for me.
Dangly earrings.
Lipstick.
Admiring glances.
My shaved legs.
A scarf draped just right.
And realizing that when I present as a woman, it comes so naturally I don’t have to think about it at all.
 |
| Wearing Paige |
 |
| Philippe Noiret femulating in the 1969 film Justine. |
No comments:
Post a Comment