About Nude Not Naked

It happened. As expected, the day came and past. And it happened. It was one of those usual busy days when I get up at half past 7 a.m. to the sound of my alarm. PY’s call at 8 a.m. is a reminder that I need to get my butt moving and hurry to our usual breakfast place. But the unusual happened. After PY’s call, I received a sms from MiniBoyFriend R. He was up and about and he asked me if I would have breakfast with him.

And since I am an anti-feminist feminist, I stuck to PY (who is my close girlfriend from highschool, to those who are new to my blog) and declined R’s offer. Technically I did not decline. I explained that my breakfast plan was fixed and he was welcomed to join two beautiful aunties for breakfast, knowing full well that R would decline. He declined my invitation three minutes later.

Off I went for sweet glorious breakfast with PY and as soon as I had forgotten R’s breakfast invite, I received another invite for dinner. It was 6 p.m. when I accepted the invitation and I was still in my office, slaving away for my next pair of Aldo shoes. So whatever resentment I had earlier in September is resolved and I absolutely loved having him around again. I miss MiniBoyFriend R. He came to watch me do some DIY stuff in my office. I am telling you, my office is getting rather swanky. I think I am going to move into that room and sleep there. It is definitely more comfortable that my college delinquent bedroom spread at the moment.

Between smoking in the balcony and reading some female magazine while waiting for me to finish up, we chatted for a bit. He asked if Ain was sad to leave for Indonesia on Sunday. I casually said “no”, which was a lie but I said it nonetheless. Some moments later, I asked, “Do you think it is cruel of me to tell her to shave her legs?”

“So you are the bitch that has turned Ain into a zombie,” came the reply.

Yes. Thank you very much, MiniBoyFriend R. You are definitely still fulfilling your role of being honest and straightforward with me. Okay, so I did not say that but I nearly did. Anyway I managed to wrap things up and we were in a Korean restaurant by 9 p.m. immediately after I ran home to shower while he played with his dogs. Thankfully MiniBoyFriend R stayed within 5 minutes drive away!

Dinner was spectacular! According to Otto’s tradition, I hardly ever bother to look into the menu to place an order. And according to Otto’s tradition, her friends did most of the decisions, from which restaurant to who is driving to what time do we get our asses there. We had a big plate of spicy glass noodles with octopus and another big bowl of spicy clam soup. I was smiling from ear to ear, picking at the 8 other small dishes that accompanied the two main courses we had ordered.

And we had the most wonderful Korean rice wine ever. I mean I am not a fan of wine but I was busy downing dainty cups of wine like an recovered alcoholic on rebound. I enjoyed the medicinal taste from the 12 herbs infused into the wine. Or whatever it was. I just loved it.

Pink lips. Even more pink cheeks and little slitty eyes. I was lips smacking and wine loving that night. We were talking about many things, just the way we used to talk about things. We talked about going away. He is going to Hong Kong and China and I would have gone too, if not for the fact that I shall be in London with Wouter! Wouter shall be my date for the winter week and we shall sit by Café Hong Kong, spying on pretty oriental girls and their skinny boyfriends.

“My treat,” I said. That was the least that I could do when MiniBoyFriend had patiently waited for me to finish my work before dinnertime at 9 p.m.

He refused and took out his card instead. The waitress left with his card between the black book. I smiled, kept my card and graciously thanked him for the meal.

Do you think that men are simple creatures? I think men are simple creatures. They want the simplest of things sometimes. Such as your smile and sincerely happiness for sharing a meal together. Most men find a woman who is a gracious and generous spirit pleasantly attractive.

Among other things, I am a reformed feminist. I used to enjoy the fact that I could buy anything my heart fancied and I still enjoy that fact that I actually buy my own things. I live in my own house and I drive my own car. At any given time, I can just walk into most restaurants and eat anything I want without looking at the menu nor worry about the cost. I could walk into boutiques and just buy whatever my heart desires.

Ah yes, such are the privileges that the modern day girl possess. Many a feminist would say that they had worked hard so girls like me could enjoy the freedom that I do enjoy now – freedom of movement, education, healthcare, financial independence and life decisions. Some feminists reacted passionately when I wrote that I would burn down some feminist placards. My act of boo-boo-ing the feminist movement was can be likened to someone who enjoyed all the perks of a club membership but refused to join the club formally after playing on the 18 holes. Or worse – I could have indirectly insulted the club.

The point that I want to make is that you can remain feminine and graceful whilst still being a feminist at heart. I am all for equality and freedom for women but I never want to highlight this issue at the expense of men. Many aggressive feminists failed to realize that they forgot what it was to be a woman. In their haste to achieve equality with the other gender, they have forgotten what made women special and what attracted a man to them.

Why should you need a man, if you can fix the light bulb faster than the man? What is the use of a man, if you are emotionally more stable, financially more secure, mentally more quick and you have a soaring career to boot?

If he can do ten laps at the pool, you would prove to yourself that you can do twenty. If he can bring in the bacon, you make sure you can bring in two slices extra. If he plays poker with the boys, you want to be equal and go clubbing with the girls too. Since he does not cook and does not iron the clothes, you resolve the problem by hiring a maid because you surely are not going to do it since you paid half of everything. After all, you are bringing home the dough too. If he can have it, so can you.

Where are you going to fit a man into your life when you are everything better than him? Do you enjoy losing all the time? If you don’t, what makes you think a man would?

If you are able to do everything so much better/faster/efficient/equal as a man, why do you need a man? You might as well have sex with yourself because trust me, you deserve only the best.

Feminism existed before the word became a word. It existed as long as time held women in this world. There will always be women and headstrong women. I would like to believe many of these earlier feminists never called themselves “feminists”. I read somewhere that Virginia Woolf, the poster woman for many feminists, refused the “feminist” label. There will always be women who believed something so passionately that they would take proactive steps to change the world. Not necessarily did they consider themselves as feminists. Neither are all feminists are of the female gender. The feminist movement and idea do attract a portion of men, who believe that women issues should be given more emphasis.

Generally I do not have any gripe against the feminist movement. Like I’ve said, I am a feminist at heart. I believe in education and information for women. I am passionate about women issues. Look, I am even writing about the ups and downs of being a young woman in this day and age. This whole blog promotes my ideas and my ideals, which are heavily laced with ideas of freedom of choice and thought for young girls.

I would like to think that I do it with grace and dignity. I celebrate all there is about being a woman. Being a woman is never about being better than the man or wanting to stand breast to chest with the man. It is about being the best that I can, the same way that you will wake up and be the best that you can. I do not want to be a Superwoman. I just want to be a smart woman and a smart woman knows that her original name is grace.

• Grace to accept that she can do things to the best that she can, which might be different from which a man does things.
  
  
• Grace to be thankful when a man holds the door for her. No, he does not think that she is weak and thus requires someone to hold the door for her. He did it for her because he wanted to do something good.
  
  
• Grace to allow herself to be happy with a man - to be vulnerable and fragile and lovely, all at the same time. She does not need to live in DefCon One status every day of her life.
  
  
• Grace to accept that man and woman can be equals without resorting to turn themselves into Mini Men or Great Men. Or any men for that matter.
  
  
• Grace to be girlish and graceful and lovable - to embrace femininity and to giggle like a girl. So bring out the lipsticks, pastel eye colours, pink fluffy dresses, tulip skirts and high high heels!

***
I have seen way too many women who bicker more than they can swallow. With their newfound freedom and wings clearly spread, they are rude, harsh and of all thing, unfeminine. In order to secure the respect they think they will garner from men at work, they lost their womanly charms. They dropped the dresses and skirts and cute little girl shoes and instead dressed in power suits to gain more perceived power. At home, these women argue more because they have more leverage in the relationship. This in itself is not a bad thing but taken to the extreme, you get women who do not know how to respect their man.

I hate women who do not know how to respect a man as much as I hate men who bully women. There are really times when the best thing a woman can do is to just shut up. Be more pleasant and less naggy. Be a decorative flowerpot. Yes, woman, you read it right. You can be smart and yet be physically appealing to the senses.

At this juncture, some women might be tempted to complain, “But oh, the fucker won’t do anything unless I nag like a poodle on heat!”. Then I say unto you, you are not the smart woman that I am talking about. A smart woman knows who to choose as an ideal partner and since your partner does not acknowledge nor help you through your difficult moments, I can safely conclude that you struck a bad deal for yourself and yes, you are not too smart.

Perhaps I am a product of the feminist movement. Perhaps I might even make some good old feminist proud. I have choices and I have made mine. I choose gracious living. I choose to be with a man. I choose to be a smart woman instead of a superwoman. I choose to flash my winsome smile. I choose to be financially independent and yet dependent on another being for love and support.

And I most certain chose to be a rebellious feminist at heart.




***
It was midnight when we finally finished dinner. He teased my flushed cheeks and he asked for my car keys. R drove along the city's brightest lights. I watched as little pops of lights flashed. It is Christmas, I thought to myself as we got up an onramp. R arrived at his doorsteps when I was just about to doze off, feeling all warm and fuzzy. Bright city lights were always calming.

“Thank you for such a beautiful evening. I loved dinner and especially the wine.”

"It's my pleasure," R said, before walking off.

The next time I looked up as I adjusted my seat in the car, R was fidgeting like a little boy. It was a familiar sight. I heard him pee the very first time I met him. He peed in the back lane with my back facing him, just a meter away.

Some things do not change.



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Related Links

• On Being A (Smart) Woman


• Everything Else Is A Mirage