Transitions are hard. It's a time when you realize your loved ones aren't the epitome of perfection. It's when you are no longer excused for your childish inappropriateness. What is it about being grown up that demands such propriety? Historically, being prim and proper akin to a woman in the early twentieth century upper class never yielded anything apart from a magnificent portrait by a talented artist and celebrated marriages. Women are so frequently looked upon as objects of beauty and girlishness, that it doesn't seem unusual to the general multitude.
(Don't believe me? Google this up:
'Gifts for men'
And now this.
'Gifts for women'
Compare your results.
Hey, you. Women have hobbies too. I for one, appreciate gifts that are less generic and thoughtless than gender-specific gifts. I have hobbies and likes that lie beyond my looks.)
I pretend to ignore this and go about dressed up in unisex clothes. In a metro compartment reserved for ladies, I look at each face squashed in the area around me, craning my neck to look at as many faces as I can - most are pretty and maintained. A face with generously kajal-outlined eyes, long straightened black hair, slightly untidy and clothes ranging from ethnic kurtis to corporate wear, all tastefully accessorized. In the crowd that I travel with each day, individuality is lost. A few faces seem to stand out, but most seem interchangeable to me. Very rarely do I come across a face that is interesting and beckons the question - what makes it so?
My train of thought can be quaint, no?
In other news, how awesome are the remixes by Kygo?
(Don't believe me? Google this up:
'Gifts for men'
And now this.
'Gifts for women'
Compare your results.
Hey, you. Women have hobbies too. I for one, appreciate gifts that are less generic and thoughtless than gender-specific gifts. I have hobbies and likes that lie beyond my looks.)
I pretend to ignore this and go about dressed up in unisex clothes. In a metro compartment reserved for ladies, I look at each face squashed in the area around me, craning my neck to look at as many faces as I can - most are pretty and maintained. A face with generously kajal-outlined eyes, long straightened black hair, slightly untidy and clothes ranging from ethnic kurtis to corporate wear, all tastefully accessorized. In the crowd that I travel with each day, individuality is lost. A few faces seem to stand out, but most seem interchangeable to me. Very rarely do I come across a face that is interesting and beckons the question - what makes it so?
My train of thought can be quaint, no?
In other news, how awesome are the remixes by Kygo?
