Black and Brown is Frown

We need a new flat mate again. Actually we found one. But of course the usual flat mate interviewing preceded this. After meeting a dozen potential flat mates, my existing flatties and I sat around the table together and Mike - if you read my blog you'll remember him, he's the death metaller, six foot tall, shaved head, vegan and serious - said that one of the applicants, cherie, with her heart bracelet and rainbow t-shirt, and her insanely high pitched effervesence, seemed like the opposite of him.

Following this comment, a discussion ensued about what would be our opposites (great theme for a party). I tried to pick mine and said, maybe a really thin, mousy, quiet little librarian type girl with glasses and dyed black hair, but really why and depressed and introverted and emo?
And my flatmate pipes up and says, no, yours would be Malibu Barbie.
And everyone including myself erupts into laughter.
She carries on: with bleached boofy perfect hair, tan-o-rexic, fake boobs, six inch pink heels, heaps of bling and a handbag dog, and just really Done Up.

This reveleation at first brings me pride.. I yam what I yam... and then when it sinks in a little further I realise, I really AM NOT ... a done up girl. All that wearing of grey sweatshirt material, singlets with built in bra's and sneakers, the absence of makeup, the long tangly hair.. and the appearance of not having looked in the mirror (somedays it's true) has obviously not been lost on anyone. Huh. Sometimes you realise how the world see's you, and it's strange.

So I have been thinking that perhaps I would give being a girl more of a nudge. Maybe. Although it does look like a lot of hard work and time.

So the guy from the party... who tracked me down and was very interested in me.
Well he was nice, I saw him a few times, we hung out and it was fun.
But one problem was, he was a bit smaller than me. Okay quite a bit.

This is not hard to achieve... I have an athletic figure that has also been described as 'amazonian': tall, broad shoulders, kinda strong looking. I love it and am happy in my body, but being around a smallER guy... sometimes the words 'big mama jumbo' would go through my head. No girl wants to feel like big mama jumbo. Ever.

I mentioned this hitch to a male friend of mine, he's the kind of guy who likes his women skinny, in make up and with breast implants, so I thought he'd understand.
He said 'no problem, just wear more dresses and some make up and do your hair'.
Like possibly he'd been trying to find a time to say that to me for awhile.

Well, I thought this was potentially good advice, so out I went, and dresses I bought.
The problem then, for someone such as myself who is not exactly The House of Style, is that I don't have all the things that go WITH dresses: belts...handbags and other things I don't even know about, no doubt.

So here I was last night rummaging through my unfailingly stylish cousins wardrobe and admiring her new buys, she is deliciously stylish, always, and has impeccable taste, her outfits are art, I am in constant admiration of her. And there amongst her new things was a brown stretch belt. I said, hey i might borrow this to go over my new dress? It's black and like this and like this with some white flecks.

And she screws up her lips and goes mmm Black and Brown is Frown.
I crack up. did you just say Frown?? I ask. Yeah, she says, black and brown is ... frown.
Oh. She's serious!
In mock horror I ask her 'is there anything ELSE i should know?'
and she immediately says 'blue and green should never be seen... unles it's blue jeans and a green top' she says succintly.
Wow. The things you didn't know you didn't know. I mean, there are SLOGANS?
I suddenly felt a sharp feeling in my chest, that picked last left out feeling, like somewhere along the line every female had been taken into a girls only club and taught how to accessorise, what necklines suited them, dressing for your season, and how to remember fashion rules using rhymes leaving me playing outside in a muddy puddle with a wooden sword and pulling the legs off crabs.

There are so many things about being a woman that I clearly don't understand, but the thing is, it isn't my fault!
Growing up I had exactly two types of clothes (barring nickers), the ones my brothers had grown out of, and the ones my mum made at home.

Skivvy's featured heavily in my wardrobe, faded from years of use, in red, navy blue and forest green. As did track pants. Good, hard wearing, comfortable, practical clothes. I can remember tracking items of clothing as the passed from the folded pile in the hot water cupboard that belonged to my oldest brother, and then to the pile that belonged to my second oldest brother, and then finally! to my pile. Because I of course, wanted nothing more than to be my brothers.

Mum kept my hair short, boy short, once I had a rats tail. So short dad accused her of trying to make me a lesbian (multiple issues revealed by that little interaction). And then, when my parents divorced, I lived mostly with my dad. I was eleven. I lived with my dad, and two older brothers. I can't tell you how little they knew about being a girl, let alone dressing like one.

MY dad, was the man INFAMOUS for his choice of practicality over style.. no, not even style, over APPEARANCE. Dad is the man in the funny fluffy hat. Dad was the man who wore sandals and socks (it is an awesome combination, one must admit they deeply know this) but not just ANY socks, knee high, ribbed, folded down at the top, white or light pink or mint green 'business' socks and not just ANY sandals, brown Roman sandals. Dad is the man who now wears every day seeing glasses that are large round ovals that nearly join in the middle, they are somewhere between an owl, an old lady, the 80's and a made scientist. They are truly laughable. When he got these I actually had to intervene and tell him that they looked ridiculous (but in softer terms) because I didn't want people judging my dad as a crazy old bat!!
After considering this for several days my dad said to me: i listened to what you said, and you may well be right, but i have given you lots of good advice in your life that you haven't taken, and I am going to keep wearing the glasses. And so it was. is. People looked at my dad, for many of the wrong reasons.

Where was I?
Oh so yes. A girl. I think I ought to be more like a girl. Only, it seems like such a lot of hard work and frankly.. time wasted. Is it really worth it? Perhaps I would be married now if i had just put in a bit more effort. That's what aunts would say about me behind their hands if it were the 1900's and I had lifted my skirts to chase after a croquet ball.
Are black and brown really... frown?
Blue and green? never be seen?

I squatted 80kgs today. That's my max squat so far. Wearing leggins with a hole in them and a Y back single. Sweat ran off my nose and through my unwashed hair. The guys at crossfit were stoked and cheered for me.
Maybe I just need to find.. my own kind :) start looking outside of Malibu.

:D