| books and libretti ( @ 2009-01-26 18:24:00 |
I'm still kind of processing this weekend, which I know sounds bizarre, but whatever. So you wore eye makeup differently -- do you really have to spend two days dwelling on it? Apparently, if you're me.
When I go out like that, I'm used to getting some attention (aka more than my fair share), but I'm not quite used to literally turning heads on the street or having guys look dumbstruck when we make eye contact or being complimented by everyone who talks to me. And the thing is, I think it's not even about how the makeup made me look, it's about the makeup itself.
In general, people rely, a whole lot, on symbols to determine attractiveness. Take any random girl who's reasonably proportionate, give her a red dress and a tiara or some flowers, and put her on the top of a staircase, and everyone will swear she's stunning. It doesn't matter at all what she actually looks like. It doesn't even have to be that complicated -- I have a friend who's 6' and blonde. Her face isn't exactly conventionally attractive, but put her in boots and let her swish her hair around, and men will cross the street in (vain) hopes of introducing themselves. Get what I mean? In these examples, it's not about the girls' actual looks, it's about the "this girl has the trappings of attractiveness!" signals that certain details broadcast.
It's just really bizarre and frustrating to me. The attention might be entertaining, but it's pretty meaningless; the guys who wouldn't come up to me if I didn't look like that aren't the kind of guys I want. Even if it were about looks rather than signals, looks don't mean much -- they can be useful, sure, you can capitalize on them, but they aren't an intrinsic part of your self. I mean, I have roughly five more years before the expiration date on whatever I've got, so why would you rely on them now when you know you'll have to adapt so soon?
***
Okay, that concludes the Thinking portion of this entry. Shallow time! Some guy compared me to Kat Foster. I had to look her up, obviously, but coincidences aside (she also went to NYU), what do you think?

I have ISSUES with homegirl's eyebrows, so ignore that part . . . and you may only be able to play along if you've seen me in person lately. I need to get more decent, recent pictures of me online.
***
Drunk Italian guy from Saturday night told me I had a "sharp smile, like the Joker, not the Jack Nicholson Joker." It was intended as a compliment -- he fell all over himself groveling when I teased him pretending to be offended -- but I sort of like it. Although I may forget the entire Joker part, "sharp smile" may be a pretty accurate description coming from a guy who doesn't know me and doesn't really speak the language.
(Okay, so probably he was just daydreaming about getting me to bite him. Be quiet and let me pretend otherwise.)
***
Yesterday I had a pretty poor date. It's unfortunate, because if he'd been worth writing about he would've had a perfect nickname: the Musketeer. But since when do guys know how to deploy myspace angles? Not cool.
Also not cool: being 45 minutes late. I'd planned to get coffee with him, then do an errand* next door, but when he texted me "running 30 minutes behind," I just did my errand first, then headed out. I actually got his "omg where are you did I miss you?!?" phone call as I was literally heading down the subway steps. He would've had to do a lot to pull it out at that point, but instead it crashed and burned in a cordial, decorous way.
*Buying knitting needles. I went to Brooklyn -- Williamsburg, no less -- to buy knitting needles. They were my favorite brand at a good price and oh man I just realized how lame it is to have a favorite brand of knitting needles. STFU plz kthx.
When I go out like that, I'm used to getting some attention (aka more than my fair share), but I'm not quite used to literally turning heads on the street or having guys look dumbstruck when we make eye contact or being complimented by everyone who talks to me. And the thing is, I think it's not even about how the makeup made me look, it's about the makeup itself.
In general, people rely, a whole lot, on symbols to determine attractiveness. Take any random girl who's reasonably proportionate, give her a red dress and a tiara or some flowers, and put her on the top of a staircase, and everyone will swear she's stunning. It doesn't matter at all what she actually looks like. It doesn't even have to be that complicated -- I have a friend who's 6' and blonde. Her face isn't exactly conventionally attractive, but put her in boots and let her swish her hair around, and men will cross the street in (vain) hopes of introducing themselves. Get what I mean? In these examples, it's not about the girls' actual looks, it's about the "this girl has the trappings of attractiveness!" signals that certain details broadcast.
It's just really bizarre and frustrating to me. The attention might be entertaining, but it's pretty meaningless; the guys who wouldn't come up to me if I didn't look like that aren't the kind of guys I want. Even if it were about looks rather than signals, looks don't mean much -- they can be useful, sure, you can capitalize on them, but they aren't an intrinsic part of your self. I mean, I have roughly five more years before the expiration date on whatever I've got, so why would you rely on them now when you know you'll have to adapt so soon?
***
Okay, that concludes the Thinking portion of this entry. Shallow time! Some guy compared me to Kat Foster. I had to look her up, obviously, but coincidences aside (she also went to NYU), what do you think?

I have ISSUES with homegirl's eyebrows, so ignore that part . . . and you may only be able to play along if you've seen me in person lately. I need to get more decent, recent pictures of me online.
***
Drunk Italian guy from Saturday night told me I had a "sharp smile, like the Joker, not the Jack Nicholson Joker." It was intended as a compliment -- he fell all over himself groveling when I teased him pretending to be offended -- but I sort of like it. Although I may forget the entire Joker part, "sharp smile" may be a pretty accurate description coming from a guy who doesn't know me and doesn't really speak the language.
(Okay, so probably he was just daydreaming about getting me to bite him. Be quiet and let me pretend otherwise.)
***
Yesterday I had a pretty poor date. It's unfortunate, because if he'd been worth writing about he would've had a perfect nickname: the Musketeer. But since when do guys know how to deploy myspace angles? Not cool.
Also not cool: being 45 minutes late. I'd planned to get coffee with him, then do an errand* next door, but when he texted me "running 30 minutes behind," I just did my errand first, then headed out. I actually got his "omg where are you did I miss you?!?" phone call as I was literally heading down the subway steps. He would've had to do a lot to pull it out at that point, but instead it crashed and burned in a cordial, decorous way.
*Buying knitting needles. I went to Brooklyn -- Williamsburg, no less -- to buy knitting needles. They were my favorite brand at a good price and oh man I just realized how lame it is to have a favorite brand of knitting needles. STFU plz kthx.