“How do I look?”
No crueler words were ever spoken from a changing room door. Indeed, when it comes to discussing a woman’s outfit men can never win. Whether this question is posed to your brother, father or prospective suitor they are instantly doomed. Boys, incase you weren’t already painfully aware, us women are so persnickety about our clothes it’s best to avoid going shopping with us at all costs. Even the slightest misunderstood word or wrongly interpreted glance can result in us going from nought to nuclear in a matter of moments and dissolving into a blubbering heap on the floor. I firmly believe that I have been called fat many times over. When I falsely accused my recent beau of taking a photo of my derriere one Sunday afternoon I fully believed he was doing so to show his friends evidence of the biggest, fattest ass he’d ever had the misfortune to expose his eyeballs to in his life. It transpired he wasn’t taking a photo of me at all. When I was asked one time why I preferred a Queen sized bed to a King I automatically assumed the gentleman in question was referring to the fact that surely such a small-sized bed couldn’t possible accommodate the mass of my beached-whale like body. He was a mattress salesman who worked on commission. And of course there was that whole awkward experience at Macy's when the sales assistant brought me a size 8 shoe instead of a 7.5 which I deduced was his way of telling me I had cankles. I was later made aware of the fact that he was part of a special needs program.
Sane, I am not. But am I unlike any other woman? Not so much.
Sane, I am not. But am I unlike any other woman? Not so much.
Indeed, even when we receive a compliment from a man we manage to draw the negative out of it. If I’m told a dress looks good on me I always feel the need to explain that it would probably look a lot better with sleeves that would cover up my bat wing arms. Words like ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’ instantly lead me to believe that the eye of the beholder sees me as a real life fishnet-stocking-wearing-corner-skulking whore. And God help the poor fool who pauses for even a milli-second after being asked the question “do I look good in this?”. He may as well instantly start walking the last mile. A fairer scenario would of course be to furnish your partner with an array of flash cards with phrases such as “you look amazing”, “wow, have you lost weight?”, or “I’m the luckiest guy in the world”. At least if he’s given fair warning of what the expected response is he might have a fighting chance. Indeed, the same could be said of all aspects of our relationships. At the end of the day, when I ask a guy a question pertaining to how he feels about me I already have the EXACT response that I want to hear conjured up in my mind and any deviations from this are to me, unacceptable. If a girl wants a guy to tell her he loves her and he doesn’t well then, he may as well hate her. And the same is true when we ask a guy how we look. Should he fail to use the exact key word we are looking for we are crestfallen and ergo deem ourselves to be, amongst other things, fat.
Yes, we are complex little creatures who should be loved, feared and loathed in equal measures. The more amusing part of this equation of course is the myth that women dress to impress men. Nothing could be further from the truth. Women dress for women. At the end of the day, when I step out in a red-soled shoe few men will recognize the subtle hint of Louboutain wafting through my ensemble. No man will realize that the delicate pendant caressing my neck once came from a perfectly wrapped blue box. How can they be expected to know that a wrap-around dress is not just a dress but the signature look upon which DVF’s entire fashion empire was built? So given that this is the case, why should we ever care whether a guy thinks our outfit is hot or not??
In a perfect world, straight men would never go shopping with straight women. A woman can only expect another woman to steer us along the winding road of fashion dos and don’ts and prevent any potential buyer’s remorse that we may teeter towards. Unfortunately in this day and age free time is more valuable than cash and the opportunities to partake in such acts of female solidarity are few and far between. So what’s a girl to do when the only other alternative involves posing that heinous question “how do I look?” to a lover??
Pose. Pose is the answer to all of our worries. Not only is this iPhone app free but it allows us gals to get an honest opinion while shopping solo. Simply snap a picture of yourself in possible purchases and share them with a group of predetermined female friends for fast feedback before saying yay or nay. Perfect. Not only will this app save you time and of course money it might also save your relationship.
Gentlemen – you can thank me later!
Gentlemen – you can thank me later!
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