Monday, November 28, 2011

Chucks and Hoodies... Or, I'm Too Sexy for the Blog

It's taken a long time for me to understand my sexiness.

I know what I find sexy in other people.  I tend to like men who are soft around the middle - I love a man with some panza (tummy).  A man who can make me laugh is sexy.  A man who takes his time to find out who I am is really sexy and a man who is smart and can talk nerdy to me is over the top sexy. Obviously he's going to have some attributes that one would find attractive, but sexiness isn't as easy to spot; it takes some time to find.

Sexiness is a journey - finding someone's sexy core takes time and substance.  Media has its own unrealistic definition of sexy and let's face it - most of society doesn't fit the bill.  Beyond bodies that impossible to achieve (it isn't like we get airbrushed every morning before leaving the house), there is nothing sexy about pre-packaged ideas that aren't our own.  While models are hot, chances are most of us will never hold them in our arms or wake up next to them the next morning.  There is nothing warm about pages in magazine or a flat TV screen.  While someone's hot factor is easy to spot, I personally have more fun discovering what is sexy about someone.

There is a huge difference between people who are hot and people who are sexy.   While I think that Ryan Gosling is hot (and Feminist Ryan Gosling is even hotter), I don't typically go for the muscular, oiled up, brooding and mysterious type.  Hotness is a sort of universal trait; there are people that most of us can agree are "hot" whereas someone can be completely ugly and still be ridiculously sexy - take Diego Rivera, for instance.  He was the husband of Frida Kahlo, world renowned Mexican muralist/artist and womanizer extraordinaire.  He also looked like a large frog but plenty of women found him to be sexy.  Sexiness is definitely in eye of the beholder.

I once went on a date with a man who asked me to wear something sexy (when I asked him to do the same, he laughed).  I panicked and rummaged through my closet for a good two hours, looking for something that would fit his definition of "sexy" - even if I didn't know what his definition was.  I don't often feel sexy when I get dressed.  As I wrote many months ago, I have always had issues with my body and my self image.  Those are demons I've had to fight for a long time and while I would like to think I've won the battle, I still have my days when the demons win.  I like to look nice when I go out, but that doesn't necessarily mean I feel sexy.  As I sat down to write this blog (several times over the last few weeks), I kept trying to remember times that clothing made me feel sexy and I finally came to the realization that clothing doesn't always make me feel sexy. Being on stage and performing poetry makes me feel sexy; making a man that I'm interested in laugh makes me feel sexy; leaving a man weak in the knees and rendered speechless after we kiss goodnight makes me feel really sexy.

I feel sexy when I wear my black Catwoman boots a lace purple mini dress, but I feel just as sexy in my Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt.  I love wearing jeans and t-shirts with clever sayings, but I also love a lace top or a sun dress.  My choices in clothing aren't sexy by a mainstream definition but rather, sexy by my standards.  When I look in the mirror, the only person looking back at me is me, and shouldn't I be the person who determines what makes me sexy?

I don't wear four-inch platform heels because they hurt my feet and there is nothing sexy about a broken ankle.  My dear friend, C., practically runs in them and she is someone who exudes sexiness, but make no mistake, it's her confidence, not her platform heels that makes her sexy.  I know a guy who has impeccable taste in music and he is insightful and genuine - his sexiness is limitless.  One of my favorite musicians is Prince, and while I could probably carry him around in my back pocket, he is one of the sexiest men alive.

Chucks, fresh out the box

Unfortunately, I have often encountered men who buy into media's notion and as a result, feel there is a certain type of woman they should date - and she is definitely not me.  It has taken a long time for me to understand that being rejected has nothing to do with me; if a man wants a "sexy" woman on his arm, he hasn't taken the time to find out what is sexy about me - and if all he is after is a hot woman that his friends will reward him for, he isn't the man for me.  The unfortunate thing is that rejection hurts, regardless of the reasoning behind it.  There is nothing like rejection to kill my sexy groove.  Nothing.

The nice thing about getting over rejection is re-discovering my sexiness.  I have a good friend who, for as long as I have known her, has attracted attention everywhere she goes, but until she felt and owned her sexiness, she didn't see it.  It's a wonderful moment when we find what is sexy about ourselves and then we celebrate it.

My challenge to you, dear reader, is to define your sexiness.  What is your sexy groove?  When are you at your sexiest?   Share with us (in the comment section below) or keep it to yourself.  The nice thing about sexiness is that it's yours, to do with it as you wish.

Next Time: Private Parts 

No comments:

Post a Comment