Skirt Essay #2:Skirt a month late…

Part Two of Sweet Skirt:

Well, alright… well….. maybe.. ok! alright! I’ll admit it. I was gay once.

Only when I could not get a date with a guy. Some call it a dry spell, for me it was purgatory. I never knew when it would end, and apparently it has taken Jesus to get me out. To be honest, I decided to become gay just to spend romantic time with someone. Basically, for me I became so forlorn about being alone, I swung in a different direction. A switch hitter none the less, but never playing with or for the other team. Great slogan: I was bored, so I became a lesbian. I hate playing with a lot of tools and toys by myself, so you can see how I know I am heterosexual. Not to depersonalize the argument, but there is something nice in having everything all in one package and no competition for clothes in the morning.

There was an article at the end of Glamour magazine by one of the editors. She was an older female and had become fascinated by lesbians. So she decided to try the lifestyle. Her conclusion after many a date was that lesbianism is all about reconciling the crap that ensues between a mother and a daughter. My real father left the picture at an early age. Some might joke I’m always looking for a man to play Daddy with me. (oops, that is another discussion altogether.)

There was a comment that came in as a response to Sweet Skirt. She said that in her relationship it was never about “who wears the pants” in the family. I think for her and hers, it sounds like a true equity has been found in their marriage. In their union clothes are not a symbol of determining power in their relationship. For the benefit of non-Americans and those unfamiliar with colloquialisms, I choose the skirt issue as a metaphor.  It alludes to other angles of gender issues, sex complexities, perceptions of equality, recent news events and personal humor.

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I have learned over the years that news changes at different levels of state. In the White House, the news is about Malia, Sasha and Putin’s grandchildren if he has any. The news to the nation, what is important, is the Michael Jackson Memorial. What is important in Jena, Louisiana is “How am I going to explain to my white friends, I can’t hang out with them any more”. Even down to what is news for you this morning is that you forgot to pick up another roll of toilet paper, then find the store stock boy is out sick. With this in mind the skirt and its wearer are perceived from many a psychological angle. From business to personal and in intimate social circles.

“A skirt, a skirt, my kingdom for mirrored shoes”. {giggle!} The first time I learned about putting mirrors on shoes was first from a movie, then from an episode of Laverne and Shirley. In the movie, set in the 1930’s or 1940’s, a man goes into a dance hall where you pay ten cents for a dance with a pretty girl. Personally speaking, I’ve been working on some moves, for when this economy gets a little vintage-ly creative. (Excuse me sir, I didn’t quite hear you. Was it Foxtrot or quick step? Lil’ lady, personally speaking I just prefer the ol’ bump and grind. ) Ok. so he asks a girl to dance and he won’t slide up to her, but keeps looking at his feet. The “girl”  (every female then was a girl) got frustrated. The camera pans to his feet as she gets a good look towards the floor, as well. In the mirror you can see her non-garmented hips, or was the underwear there? She screams, hits him, calls him a pervert and he runs out. I think she gets stiffed on her earnings.

Aside: Someone is probably wondering, between the mental images of Marilyn Monroe in a white dress, where her stockings and other accoutrements were. I just had a flash of a memory, an elder African-American woman when I was a child chided me that “only white people don’t wear underwear with pantyhose”. For years I tried to layer as she commanded. But between the heat generated in tighty whities and control top pantyhose, I could never bear the heat except in the fall and winter time. Because of that for years I stayed away from skirts and dresses. Even my chemistry teacher in high school wondered if ‘d at least, one day, maybe, I’d act a little more feminine. The thing is he never said it till the day I wore a grey heavy weight stretch knit dress, long earrings and grey pumps. First thing when I walked in the classroom, Teach said something like “I knew you were a woman.”  He said it as if I had deluded that older man for years. He followed up with a, “You look nice.” He said that a few times, a few different ways. One bit of information, this was my third year of chemistry when this occurred. AP chemistry would follow the next year with him as instructor.

Part 3: Flat fold and Ruffle purpose

by N.C. Constantine

Copywrite  July 7, 2009