Do ya think I'm sexy?

So do ya?

And do you think you're sexy?

There's been a bit of sexy talk going on lately; read Bella's, Jane's and Tamera's thoughts over at their blogs.

Jane hasn't posted her proposed link up of bloggers looking sexy, but I had intended to use this photo as my contribution.

Do I look sexy? No idea.

 I don't much care, and that's my point.

 I felt good, I was wearing a frock that I love, I was having a little dance and a swoosh in my garden on a sunny day, and not thinking much about anything except enjoying myself and having a laugh.

And if we are saying sexiness is all in the attitude and the confidence (and we are saying that, aren't we?) and not about age or shape or size, not about nudity or exposure or fake body parts, then I guess I'm as sexy as anyone else.

Just take a moment to go and type sexy into Google Images.

Go on - I'll wait for you.

Are you back?

How are you feeling?

Amused, appalled, saddened, depressed, angry, resigned?

 Or do you feel sexy?

 No, me neither.

Our culture does conflate semi/nudity with sexiness, it's a lad's mag view of women, all big hair and pouts, tits and ass, lots of flesh.

It's a parody of sexy, a cartoon/porn version.

So do ya think I'm sexy?

I don't mind dressing up, slapping on a wig and some false eyelashes, showing a bit of cleavage and some leg.

But I'm joking; it's not the real me, it's that cartoon version of sexy again. It's role playing, Circus/Bordello Girl, or Cabaret Dancer, or Housewife Pin-Up.

It's not the me who takes the kids to school, schleps round Lidl, clears out the cat litter tray, takes the rubbish out, cooks dinner, loads the dishwasher, meets friends for coffee, volunteers in class.

Am I sexy doing those things? Of course not. Do I want to be? No, not really.

Is anyone sexy all the time, in everything they do? Would that not be a bit strange?

Our sexiness can fluctuate, as can our expression of it.

It's affected by the state of our relationships, by confidence and self-esteem issues, by hormonal changes, by depression, by anxiety, grief, fatigue, or illness.

  

Hot? Not?

The truth is, sexiness is highly subjective, complex, personal and sensitive, and for most of us, very private, it's virtually impossible to define, and therefore even harder to discuss in any meaningful way.

 

And even though it's a term I use too, I am increasingly fed up with sexiness being the currency, the thing that matters. Melanie wrote something similar here (a whole year ago, my goodness!);

 I am so tired of the word sexy I want to scream!! Sexy's rightful home is in the brain and so far they don't make lacy push-up brain bras.

It's a shorthand, I suppose, a quick way of saying someone has a particular brand of confidence, sass, charisma and style. It doesn't rely on beauty or physical attributes, and it doesn't depend on dressing a certain way. It's a part of who we are, we may choose to deliberately enhance and display it, or we may not. It's not all we are.

Would I be offended if you said I wasn't sexy?

No.

Would I be offended if you said I was unintelligent and inarticulate?

Yes.

I trawled through a whole load of my old photos looking for images to include in this post.

Try it - it's quite a challenge to look at yourself and consider whether you look sexy or not.

This shot is old, poor quality, I'm wearing trousers (a jumpsuit actually), I'm covered up, no wig, no playing a character or hamming it up.

And yes, I do think I'm sexy.


Edit: linking up after all with Jane at Flight Platform Living for her Shiny T Tuesday!

xxxxxx

So I'm pondering...

... how it is that blogging has given me some much-needed confidence, and the nature of self-esteem.

You may leave now, if that sounds too dreary for you to bother with, I won't be offended!

If anyone had said to me 6 months ago that I would be posting photos of myself on the Internet, frequently looking daft, I would not have believed them. So what on earth happened? And why?

A love of vintage clothing is obviously the hook on which I hang my blog, and there is something amazingly confidence-boosting about finding a like-minded group of people who appreciate quirky and individual style. I suppose it's a way of finding your tribe, your gang, which is supportive and protective of you. After many years of feeling that I never look right somehow - not pretty enough, not thin enough, over/underdressed, not cool, blah blah blah - I have found that by completely eschewing current trends in fashion, I am released from all that worry and self-consciousness. It's counterintuitive, but by dressing in a way that undoubtedly attracts attention (oh the side-eye...), I am so much less concerned about that attention, or others' opinions.

I think it must be a control thing. If I take the photo, if I pull the silly face, or choose the weird frock, that's up to me. I make the decision to publish it. It is an interesting phenomenon, the fact that lots of bloggers admit to anxieties about how they look, they don't think they are the most beautiful women in the world, but they obviously gain confidence from publicly saying, "this is me, and I look pretty good!" And this is irrespective of size, age, style, or the cost of their clothes. I like this about blogging, it's open to all.

So I had been thinking about all this stuff, when I overheard Youngest LB and her dad having a conversation whilst in the bathroom applying her creams.

For those who don't know, Youngest Child has a rare skin condition* which makes her skin extremely dry, scaly and fragile. It's noticeable on some areas of her body more than others, but all her flexures are particularly affected, including her hands which are obviously always on show. Naturally, she has encountered some negativity from other children about her skin and the fact that she looks different, and we talk with her often about this issue, trying to help her find responses to others' reactions.

Other Half thinks we should just encourage her to tell them to fuck off. While I admire his gung-ho direct approach (and she may need it in the future) she is only 6, so maybe that won't play too well at school...

But back to my eavesdropping.

OH and Youngest LB were talking about her skin being different, and the fact that there are many ways in which people can look different from each other. This lead them on to discussing whether appearance mattered. LB said that some people might not want to be her friend because of her skin; OH agreed that was true, but added that anyone who used someone's appearance (or disability) as a reason not to like another person, probably wasn't worth being friends with anyway. LB agreed. OH said that you can't make people like you. LB agreed. OH said "I like you. Because you're interesting, and funny, and clever, and I like how you think about things." LB said "And I look nice too." OH agreed.

So this self-esteem thing... it's complicated. Youngest LB wants to be loved for her personality. But she likes to be reassured that she looks nice too. Of course what's on the inside matters most. But we can't deny the impact of the external, our appearance matters too. Of course we want to be appreciated for our intelligence, our wit and warmth, our humour and our kindness. But aren't we also delighted when someone tells us we look good?

Which is pretty much where I came in - the confidence-building, morale-boosting, frock-lovin', vintage craziness-appreciating, endlessly kind and supportive world of the Ladies Who Blog.

Youngest LB and I salute you. xxxxxxx

PS. Normal service will be resumed in the next post. I just needed to get that off my chest!

*Bullous Ichthyosiform Erythroderma, in case you're wondering. (And no, she won't grow out of it. That's often the next question!)