It's not as if I haven't seen women like that before, and the entitle thought in my mind, in most girls minds when confronted with a woman like this is: Tart it's a word us good girls learn from our mothers, in a hushed tone with plenty of distaste and just a hint of jealously. Despite the fact that that word rang in my head, I am also one of those girls who can't help but swoon over those women. You know who I'm talking about?
The woman wearing a dress even though its raining
The woman in scarlet red when having a casual lunch in the middle of the day
The woman wearing heels no matter what the occasion
The woman who answers the door looking like the new star of a movie when its 10am and the rest of us are in P.J's
The woman all the men fancy, without fail.
They have an aura, a glow about them, it's that illusive sex appeal, the Marilyn Monroe glow.
I admire these women, even if I immediately think: Tart I still can't help but feel complete awe and appreciation because they have what I want. You read all the time that its not being blessed with beautiful features and a size 6 body that makes a woman undeniably sexy. This woman was not beautiful. I also have doubts that she would look half the same without all the makeup on at 3am but she had the sex appeal. It radiated from her in her confidence and rather than sitting there being pissed off and feeling like shit in my blue jeans and white vest I was contemplating how I might be more like her, I was admiring her quietly and trying to work out what it was about her that made her stand out. The red hair definitely. I already took that step when I started dying mine as bright red as I can get. I didn't like the way she wore hers, it was short but big, it aged her I thought, a sleek smooth pixie would have been hot as hell. I've done that before, it doesn't work so well on me. She wore sophisticated well put together clothes, but really it was just her confidence. I knew as soon as I saw her profile as I walked into the room that she was confident in herself and nothing knocked it. Or at least she gave a damn good impression of this.
I never used to care about looks and fashion and appearing attractive. The years I spent with the Keyholder I couldn't care less what I looked like. I rarely made an effort, I never wore heels, I barely wore dresses. Jeans, T-shirts and jumpers were my entire wardrobe. I just never thought about it. Back then I only owned black and white bras and the same average 6 in a pack knickers. It's hardly surprising that went down the toilet is it? Since I've been with my Mr Jones my attitude has completely altered. I think about these things, I want to look as attractive as I possibly can. I know its all rooted deeply from this fear inside of me, but it haunts me.
I never want him to look at me and change his mind.
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