Femininity: Perhaps I Do It Too Well…

Yesterday, neither I nor J felt like cooking. And, you know, when even *I* look in the fridge, freezer and cupboard and my only response is “meh”, you know that’s some seriously uninspiring food!

So we decided to go out. And it had been raining, which meant wet pavements, which meant wet jeans, which meant a potentially uncomfortable dining experience. Being sneaky, I thought “ooh! I could wear a skirt!”

Do you want to know my thought patterns as I got changed out of my manky I’m-revising-so-don’t-care-if-I-look-grim clothes? I bet you do:

Oooh! I could wear a skirt! That way my ankles will stay dry. Hmm, better wear tights though. Maybe I don’t want to look like a peasant girl in my swooshy skirt. Ok, I’ll wear that smart skirt I haven’t had an excuse to wear yet. Oh, but it’s got a red lining. I’ve only got two red tops. One of them’ll go, surely. No, this one’s too casual. And the other one emphasises the breastsplosion I’ve got going on. Crap. Well, maybe a black top would do? I can’t wear a shirt, I’ll look like I’m auditioning for a part in a porn film. Anyway, J’s wearing jeans. I’ll look stupid if I wear something too smart. But all the rest of my black tops just don’t go. They’re faded, or make me look slightly pregnant, or just *boring*. Ok. How about turquoise. Yeah. That’ll do. Right. Shoes. Well, my high-heeled knee-high pirate boots clearly don’t work. Also, see the porn comment. Ok, then, the little ones with the strap. Fuck, I look like a seven-year-old dressing up.

Sod it, I’m wearing jeans. The faded black one’s’ll do. They’re clean. And that red top I said was too casual. That looks nice. And that red necklace I’ve got. And my normal, black shoes. Ok, they’re the same ones my mother wears, but who’s going to care? Anyway, I can walk in them.

This thought process I present to you almost without comment. Except to say: some women must do this all the time. How exhausting. How time-consuming. And how upsetting. Fuck that.

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