Let’s talk about sexiness…
I suppose it’s because I haven’t really found myself comparing my “hey there, notice me as an approachable attractive female” style to others, but I have figured out my charm when it comes to attracting men.
I am not talking about physicality, I am talking about what I bring to the table upon first encounter. Humor. Or, ill places attempts at humor. I don’t stop you in your tracks with a husky voice or parted lips, I am not someone who reeks of sexual appeal. I would rather have you laughing than really truly checking me out. I am not an item in a store. Do not cataloge my body parts upon introduction. (Unless you are a doctor and I am your patient. See! Misplaced awkward attempt at humor.)
So, I am silly. I am a goof, I break into accents, I quote things, I am loud. I make fun of myself. Why? Because being sexy is…. well honestly it’s too much work. I mean, at least back when I tried to adhere to the societal sexy quota for the 5 seconds I considered it then shook my head in negation. Sexiness, to the best of my knowledge comes in the moments when you have bedhead, wearing bikeshorts and his tee shirt. At least that is when I feel, truly appealling. Yeah, I love going out with my ladies wearing a cute outfit, painting up my face and putting on my pouty red lipstick. But, I can’t be that kind of woman all the time. That being someone who expertly applies eyeliner every morning, it’s not the kind of woman I am, it’s nearly impossible. I have realized being honest to what makes me me is what makes me That Kind of Woman.
I can however, make you spit out your water with my jokes. I can make you clutch your sides at the stories I tell. I can, at the least make you smile.
Some guys will like the cookie cutter idea of sexy. Some will think sexy is you barefoot and natural. Some guys find the fact that you wear those bike shorts under your vintage dresses sexy. That you try to covertly burp alone, away from everyone but get overheard is the cutest thing ever. Tomato, Tomato. To each their own.
I mean, my definition of a “sexy” man ranges. Activities that men do that are sexy to me. Sexy is appeal. It is a moment captured when you would like to jump a person’s bones because you are overcome with the overwhelming urge to. If your book shelf gets a lady’s motor revving, heck more power to you. Maybe it’s the way your mouth hitches, or the way your hands move. The way you walk. The way you prepare eggs in the morning. The way you scratch your morning beard. It’s the fact you can have me laughing into the pillow at 6am on a Wednesday morning. That’s what is sexy to me. Not 5 inch heels and rhinestone corsets, or a ripped bod.
I just know that beauty products are not fail proof, that our asses sag, that styles go in and out, and our skin wrinkles. However, a great sense of humor will only get better with age, like life in general.