So there I was on a wet
and grey Friday afternoon paging through yet another typical women’s glossy
when I come across a quirky article by Alison Palmer that got me thinking…
The piece is titled, “Come on guys where’s my wolf-whistle?” It
basically talks about no matter how un-PC wolf-whistling might be,
we like it. Ok maybe just a little.
Being recently engaged, I could
totally relate to what Alison was talking about. I mean, there’s nothing more
annoying than trying to do your Thursday evening dinner shopping after work when
you get some dumb-ass tryin’ to hit on you in the fresh produce isle. Like, can
he not see you’re not interested, despite the fact that you’ve got a rock the
size of Africa on your finger?!
Then suddenly one day, you’re
walking through the mall in your slippers (yes, I do that), no make-up and hair
in a granny bun, and you hear a bunch of 20-something's, “Give us a smile pretty
lady.” Now you’re thinking, OMG, I look and feel like ass and they noticed me?! Only to turn around and realise they’re talking to the hottie teeny bopper behind you. All legs, white teeth, bouncy hair and boobs you could hang a hat on. #Cue embarrassment and one seriously deflated ego.
Now you’re left to face
facts, have you lost your mojo? Could this be the end of your “it” or are you
just no longer attractive to the wolves? (Ok, that sounded a little crass) but
seriously… I mean, you’re not that old, sure the breasts are starting to look
like stones in socks and your thighs cheer you on when you walk but it can’t be
all that bad. Can it?
Well, it’s not. We may not
be as silly and giggly as our younger counterparts, but we’re sophisticated,
mature, earn double figure salaries and don’t comply to curfews and that in
itself is sexy enough, god damnit!
Solution to attracting wolves:
hike up your skirt at the waist, undo a button or two and slap on some el cheapo cherry lip gloss (the kind we
wore in high school) and see the kind of goons that come your way. #nuff said
Oh Lebz, #Breasts starting to look like stones in socks.. you are the death of me...
ReplyDeleteLook, you can't argue with gravity girla. #truestory
ReplyDelete