The recent spate of genderfuck stories triggered something of an epiphany for me.
I'm no good at being a girl.
I'm happy to be female, yes, and I can't even imagine wanting to be male, but the distance between "female" and "girl" is huge.
Actually, the difference between "female" and "girl" is me.
I can't dress myself. I finally learned what a
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I can assure you, you're not alone. I actually have a fear of cosmetics. If my friends want me to socialise (which I'm terrible at), they have to threaten me with hairspray. That's, uh, probably not technically a 'cosmetic', but I'm so very unfamiliar with them that I'm not sure about the definition.
I also hate skirts, because I can't move in long ones, and I'm afraid of having my legs exposed, so short ones are also out. And I own precisely one pair of trousers.
In conclusion: I am utterly hopeless.
And, uh, what's a 'slip'? (This is rather embarrassing.)
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Except, of course, that I wear skirts all the time, and many of them probably are somewhat translucent, and I don't wear slips, on account of a) they're not comfortable and b) I would probably end up killing myself with it.
In conclusion: I am utterly hopeless.
Not so much. Notice how many other people also are not good with the girl stuff. Or if you are hopeless, you're in such good company that it's probably quite a good thing to be hopeless ( ... )
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Here I can add one of the few Sekrit Girl Tip Thingies I know: If your skirt isn't see through, instead of wearing a slip, you can eliminate cling by putting moisturizer on your legs. This is particularly useful for pantyhose.
*is all proud at mad sekrit knowledge*
I remember when I went into the city for work experience a number of years ago, and as I was standing on the corner waiting for the light to change a policewoman and an immigrant woman got into discussion about the use of moisturizer to stop clinging skirts. I love the way my city is so friendly.
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But what astonishes me is that there's this whole community of women who have no idea what a slip is for. (Which suggests that it's not all that necessary, or at least that if you do need one and you don't wear it, you won't be alone.) Surely this should've been explained somewhere. In a Victoria's Secret catalog, maybe, since there is no way to escape those (at least, not in the US), especially if you have two X chromosomes. Those things follow women everywhere; if we ever do make it to Mars in person, I bet there'll already be a bunch of out-of-date Victoria's Secret catalogs there.
And a Starbucks, of course.
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And, judging by peeks through other apartment's porch doors, it seems that people somehow manage to decorate their homes in some sort of coordinated manner. I think some of these people even have real cloth napkins. I don't understand this, because my decor consists of lots of bookshelves (for me), random pieces of musical and recording equipment (for the husband), and a fourth-hand sofa that has been extensively clawed by the cats. Oh, and my collection of Green Men and masks, ( ... )
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Maybe I should pump her for information.
Yes! Specifically, the time and location of her remedial girl classes. We'll get to the bottom of this yet. And then we will share with the world, by gum.
I don't understand this, because my decor consists of lots of bookshelves (for me), random pieces of musical and recording equipment (for the husband), and a fourth-hand sofa that has been extensively clawed by the cats.
Books are decorative. Everyone knows this.
Right?
At any rate, while we were house shopping (and therefore saw every house in this area OMG, and don't let anyone tell you house-shopping isn't fun and informative; it's not like trying to buy dresses), I came to the conclusion that they were. The people we bought our house from didn't have any, and she was a teacher. Even their small children didn't have any ( ... )
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Mwahahah. *Guides you over to cupiscent's site and mumbles something about pimping a tiny fandom* It's Constantine (movieverse) and the main character, well...his bed is inside a cage. To keep things out. But the possibilities of keeping things in were noted very quickly.
Specifically, the time and location of her remedial girl classes. We'll get to the bottom of this yet.
Seriously, she went from a high school look that involved no makeup and clothing that even I, the fashion victim could see wasn't quite right, to being the most polished, perfectly-made-up person I know. And she didn't tell me *how she did it*. So very unfair.
And when you consider that my natural instinct, at any rate, is just to cover the available floorspace with huge teetery towers of them, really, I think we both deserve points.
I agree! By god, I never knew I was at the forefront of home decoration before. My eyes have been opened!
Plus, music-recording stuff. That's decorative! And pretty! And really costly, ( ... )
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Oh, and I do know you're you, and that the other you is you also. Yes.
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And even then, I don't think I'd have gone shopping if I hadn't been able to do it online. Every time I go by a mall, I look at all the cars and think: do those people know they don't have to be there?
I want a service where you pick the pair of pants and shirt you like, and some colors, and then they just send you three new pair every six months and charge it to you.
Yes. Oh yes. Or, hey, I'd go for a service where I got to pick the colors and just got sent a complete coordinating wardrobe.
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And now I want to know where you get pants that can survive being washed twice a week for almost ten months. I'm jealous. I want pants like that!
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Am not so terrible at girly things--I just don't bother with them because I regard many of them as TOOLS OF THE SEXIST PATRIARCHY OMG. I'm 17, and my nanny's been bugging me to shave under my arms for two years now, and I only just started doing it in secret because the hair was starting to bug me and I'm just that contrary.
I don't wear makeup and haven't a clue how to apply most of it, but I do have to do some rudimentary facial care in the morning if I don't want to look really freaky. I have eczema, so my face gets really dry and flaky if I don't scrub it with a hot washcloth (like, steaming hot, but I'm used to it so it actually feels kind of nice) and then spread a thin coating of prescription acne cream all over it. I don't use lipstick because it looks weird and dries my lips out--rather, I use a dermatologist-recommended tub-o-moisturizer as chapstick. It works amazingly well, leaves no funny makeup smells, keeps my complexion clear, and avoids all the chemicals omg in most makeup ( ... )
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