Hello everyone
Well the sun’s still shining and the days are absolutely glorious, for how much longer we may ask ourselves sceptically? The running joke is that in England we can easily enjoy 4 seasons in a day. So, for me, always with cardigan or thermal vest tucked away in my make-up bag, I can quite happily say I am always prepared for any type of weather.
As always when the sun comes out, many feel it is time to shed and share with the world a body that has been craving freedom and sunshine. Now I am not one prone to using alternatives so that I can sport a tan, even though I do crave a golden glow or complexion from the sun. But I’ve seen too many patchy brown-cum-yellowy orange and orange leather skinned babes or badly burned babes to think to myself “you know what girlfwen stick to au natural because yellow and sickly pale will have to be your new “in”.
Yet our skin needs the sun and so does the soul. Skin which has been hidden under a plethora of woollens and cottons and anything else which rebuffs the cold from our bodies, needs time out. Bodies which gasp for freedom, even though many are now carrying additional weight and which have lives of their own. Try bending down without this excess weight spilling over the sides of your jeans or try running to catch the bus – you’ll soon see why you need to invest in a three cup bra, the extra one for the middle tit that’s just birthed itself.
I am always amused at the men, though. Monsieur Ego. Mista “here I am babes look at my ever expanding and bulging pecs.” It doesn’t matter that many are facially unappealing and one could never really take them home to meet mother, who would then politely ask “so what sort of babies do you think you could have with this man?”
Jaw lines as chiselled like the edge of a sword. Fat, stout necks which look as if they should be on some prehistoric animal and torsos all bulked up as if ready to explode. Yet one thing that has always really fascinated me are the legs. All muscle up top and spindly, willowy, bony legs. I often wonder how such legs could possibly withstand the bulk? It must be quite a feat!! Actually damn amazing if I say so. Defying even the laws of gravity.
I can never seem to get my head around when some guy glides past me in a tank top, thinking he’s the next smooth thing since honey on hot toast and melted butter. He’s had the audacity to wear shorts and is grinning at me like he knows me. People, there are two things I just don’t do. Short men (and that is men under 5ft 8) and men with spindly legs. Find it quite off putting actually and the remedy for this is to simply keep on your trousers. Even if the temperature reaches 50 degrees and the sweat is trying to cut off your quota of oxygen, just cut a few holes in your trousers to let some air in and leave the shorts alone.
Gents piece of advice. If you’re going to bulk up on top then do the bottom as well. Let me break it down to you – it’s like the Ying and the Yang, night and day, hot and cold – you’ve got to strike a balance. If you're one of the few and lucky people who have a good face of decent character and a good, honest, handsome healthy smile then you could possibly get away with a pair of shorts reaching down to your ankles, possibly, but anything any higher is a definite no-no.
So gents, next time you fancy swaggering my way like John Wayne, with a twinkle in your eye, all suited and booted in nothing but your tee-shirt and shorts and you do not have a decent pair of legs on you, just remember what Dionne Warwick said ” If you see me walking down the street and I start to cry each time we meet Walk on By”
