Monday, May 22, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Hence proven
Shani
'Please don’t let any Fashion Guru define your wardrobes' -- okay and so, we should let you define our wardrobes instead?
I wrote a post about the short-shirt phenomenon in my own blog. I commented on how the male species of the population have serious staring issues. Why should we not 'go public' with what we wear? Why should men's staring habits cause us to dress excessively and yes, hideously to hide every curve... when at the end of the day, you men will hunt them out with your spying eyes anyway? Why should women not wear what they want to wear only because the men of Pakistan violate them with their looks... whether they wear long, short or NO shirts(regardless of whether its because of a fashion guru, or a trend, or simple comfort)?
If I like my bottom in a short short shirt and a big big shalwar... I shouldn't have to justify it to ANY man in the world. Have you ever heard or of seen women stare the knickers off a man simply because of what he was wearing???? We see teenage wannabe boys standing around all the time with their jeans falling off their behinds and their boxers showing most obscenely from everywhere. Has it ever made a difference to us? Never. Have we ever commented? Never. Have we even cared? Never. Men do not cease to flash the flesh (and the body parts) in teeny tiny shorts and itty bitty sleevelesses, sickeningly tight pants, obscenely baggy ones and WHAT not.
But to this day, I have never in my life GAWKED at one until he felt like digging a hole in the ground and burying himself in it to save himself from 'undressing' eyes.... nor have I ever bothered myself with a second look at the details of his clothing, the pleats, the size of his bottom or the unnervingly bare, hairy legs, arms and flashing other things (unless I have an attractive interest in the man and he's making ME look bad)! I might not like it, I might not appreciate it, I may not find it to be 'all that' and I may not want to be caught dead seen with a man dressed so hideously..... but hey! He ain't dressing up for me OR for anyone else.... and even if he is, it's none of my concern. His clothes aren't important enough to give them even a second glance, much less a second thought. You want to push opinions on a woman's clothing.... you do it once you're married to her, if and when she allows you to pass the judgement. No random woman / friend / acquaintance / stranger is going to appreciate your pervy looks.... much less your uncalled for suggestions on what fashion to follow and what not to follow. Some women dress a certain way to follow trends, some to defy them... and others simply don't care.
What ANY random person wears is none of my business, nor do I wish to make it mine. I could not care less. It would be REALLY nice if you could share the same respect for a woman's clothing and her right to love the way her bottom looks in any clothing she may choose to complement it!!!
Phew!
'Please don’t let any Fashion Guru define your wardrobes' -- okay and so, we should let you define our wardrobes instead?
I wrote a post about the short-shirt phenomenon in my own blog. I commented on how the male species of the population have serious staring issues. Why should we not 'go public' with what we wear? Why should men's staring habits cause us to dress excessively and yes, hideously to hide every curve... when at the end of the day, you men will hunt them out with your spying eyes anyway? Why should women not wear what they want to wear only because the men of Pakistan violate them with their looks... whether they wear long, short or NO shirts(regardless of whether its because of a fashion guru, or a trend, or simple comfort)?
If I like my bottom in a short short shirt and a big big shalwar... I shouldn't have to justify it to ANY man in the world. Have you ever heard or of seen women stare the knickers off a man simply because of what he was wearing???? We see teenage wannabe boys standing around all the time with their jeans falling off their behinds and their boxers showing most obscenely from everywhere. Has it ever made a difference to us? Never. Have we ever commented? Never. Have we even cared? Never. Men do not cease to flash the flesh (and the body parts) in teeny tiny shorts and itty bitty sleevelesses, sickeningly tight pants, obscenely baggy ones and WHAT not.
But to this day, I have never in my life GAWKED at one until he felt like digging a hole in the ground and burying himself in it to save himself from 'undressing' eyes.... nor have I ever bothered myself with a second look at the details of his clothing, the pleats, the size of his bottom or the unnervingly bare, hairy legs, arms and flashing other things (unless I have an attractive interest in the man and he's making ME look bad)! I might not like it, I might not appreciate it, I may not find it to be 'all that' and I may not want to be caught dead seen with a man dressed so hideously..... but hey! He ain't dressing up for me OR for anyone else.... and even if he is, it's none of my concern. His clothes aren't important enough to give them even a second glance, much less a second thought. You want to push opinions on a woman's clothing.... you do it once you're married to her, if and when she allows you to pass the judgement. No random woman / friend / acquaintance / stranger is going to appreciate your pervy looks.... much less your uncalled for suggestions on what fashion to follow and what not to follow. Some women dress a certain way to follow trends, some to defy them... and others simply don't care.
What ANY random person wears is none of my business, nor do I wish to make it mine. I could not care less. It would be REALLY nice if you could share the same respect for a woman's clothing and her right to love the way her bottom looks in any clothing she may choose to complement it!!!
Phew!
Monday, May 15, 2006
One love?
Do you think it's possible that we only fall in love only once? - A question posed by Xeb that made me pause for a moment and think.
Luv shmuv. A lifetime is a long long time, and I think everyone falls in and out of love a hundred and one times during it! Honestly, I sometimes have trouble deciding if I've never been in love at all, or if I've been in love every single time. I end up getting myself so emotionally attached to things and people that it's hard to figure out whether love exists at all or if it's just all over the place. Hey, what can I say... I'm a very loving person?!! I've been in love every time. Every single time, whether it was a friend, a pet, an acquaintance, an object or a boy.
Anyone who says they've never been in love with anyone or that they've only fallen in love once (when put in terms of the notoriously phenomenal boy-girl relationship), is quite frankly, either lying through their teeth... or is just trapped in a maze of eternal denial.
Either love doesn't exist at ALL (which would explain why it happens so many times)... or it just isn't as unique and 'one'ly as its cliched to be.
Luv shmuv. A lifetime is a long long time, and I think everyone falls in and out of love a hundred and one times during it! Honestly, I sometimes have trouble deciding if I've never been in love at all, or if I've been in love every single time. I end up getting myself so emotionally attached to things and people that it's hard to figure out whether love exists at all or if it's just all over the place. Hey, what can I say... I'm a very loving person?!! I've been in love every time. Every single time, whether it was a friend, a pet, an acquaintance, an object or a boy.
Anyone who says they've never been in love with anyone or that they've only fallen in love once (when put in terms of the notoriously phenomenal boy-girl relationship), is quite frankly, either lying through their teeth... or is just trapped in a maze of eternal denial.
Either love doesn't exist at ALL (which would explain why it happens so many times)... or it just isn't as unique and 'one'ly as its cliched to be.
Budday hues
Lows:
Forgotten birthday promises. Broken hearts. Shattered expectations.
Sinking feelings. My best friend. Concinving myself he's gone for good.
Salty tears of sweet pain. Praying to no avail. Watching the sun rise through a veil of bitter tears.
Highs:
High resolve. Unexpected phone calls. Coffee mousse cake. New friends. Fan. Love.
Bittersweet heartache. Feeling emotionally moved. Looking good, feeling gorgeous. Meaningful looks. Special messages. Chinese food. Loving looks. Raindrops where the rain don't pour. Sunshine under the moon. Smiles. Tinkling laughter. Hugs. Kisses. More hugs. Confessions. Apologies.
Forgotten birthday promises. Broken hearts. Shattered expectations.
Sinking feelings. My best friend. Concinving myself he's gone for good.
Salty tears of sweet pain. Praying to no avail. Watching the sun rise through a veil of bitter tears.
Highs:
High resolve. Unexpected phone calls. Coffee mousse cake. New friends. Fan. Love.
Bittersweet heartache. Feeling emotionally moved. Looking good, feeling gorgeous. Meaningful looks. Special messages. Chinese food. Loving looks. Raindrops where the rain don't pour. Sunshine under the moon. Smiles. Tinkling laughter. Hugs. Kisses. More hugs. Confessions. Apologies.
Budday Buddhi
Happy budday too meee. Happy buddayyyy toooo meeee!
Birthdays contain the best ingredients for self-actualization. You end up being hit with one too many realizations on how important you are in some people's lives, how unimportant you are in others', who your real friends are, who is just pretending.... and ofcourse (the best for last), you get to play with people's patience by talking endlessly, being crazy-annoying, throwing tantrums, etcetera just to test the threshold of patience that people who love you (or don't) are capable (or incapable) of maintaining on your birthday. *insert evil laughter*
Yesterday was the best birthday of my entire life (minus the ten or so initial ones that I can't seem to remember anything about, save a yellow-doll coconut cake that a random Aunt once made for me on my seventh budday... yum). A lot of nostalgia kicked in when friends old and new called to say happy birthday.... some that I had not remembered the existence of even (mean me). My wittle twin babies called to say happy budday and to express their regrets for not being able to show up on time ('we're too far haala!'). *Contented sigh*
I got a prank call at 5:30 in the morning. I like to think I knew who it was, and it made my day.
Birthdays contain the best ingredients for self-actualization. You end up being hit with one too many realizations on how important you are in some people's lives, how unimportant you are in others', who your real friends are, who is just pretending.... and ofcourse (the best for last), you get to play with people's patience by talking endlessly, being crazy-annoying, throwing tantrums, etcetera just to test the threshold of patience that people who love you (or don't) are capable (or incapable) of maintaining on your birthday. *insert evil laughter*
Yesterday was the best birthday of my entire life (minus the ten or so initial ones that I can't seem to remember anything about, save a yellow-doll coconut cake that a random Aunt once made for me on my seventh budday... yum). A lot of nostalgia kicked in when friends old and new called to say happy birthday.... some that I had not remembered the existence of even (mean me). My wittle twin babies called to say happy budday and to express their regrets for not being able to show up on time ('we're too far haala!'). *Contented sigh*
I got a prank call at 5:30 in the morning. I like to think I knew who it was, and it made my day.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
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