As You Like It

“He likes really skinny girls,” my friend told me referring to the kind of girls her ‘would-be-boyfriend’ fancies. It’s a statement often heard; only that it changes parameters. If not being skinny, then it’s about being beautiful, having long hair, straight hair, sexy legs, short clothes, long clothes, good clothes, expensive perfumes, make up…….blah blah blah.

As for me, I was no alien to such paranoid obsession about being able to give it all to please that one person I fancy. Changing several skirts to match the new blouse that I had purchased would be a daily event, much to the amusement of my own self. But I had been “instructed” to improve my dressing sense, and I would do all that was in my capacity to help myself transform into the most important person in his life: and my attire of course would help me do just that.

This mad fixation continued for quite some time, a couple of months, maybe. Each time we went out, I would be dressed in my Sunday best and the man would be attired in a care-a-damn torn jeans and t-shirt with hair flowing around his shoulders, forehead and ears. I was trying to be this idiotic prim and propah girl while the boyfriend was just being himself. The self respecting feminist that I claimed to be, I cribbed to myself all the time.

And then, we gradually started knowing each other better. Months flew and we knew each other beyond our clothes. We were more comfortable in our old clothes than the new ones. You know how small babies are made to wear old clothes, for the new ones may cause itching? Our new found relationship was now bundled in those cosy old clothes that could be washed and worn every second day. Maybe even him, with all his instructions about dressing up well, after a point didn’t care about how I looked. Maybe he began loving me beyond that.

So now when my friend talked about pleasing the boy, I know its not going to be the same always. There will be times when you wake up looking like orang-utans next to each other, kiss on an un-brushed mouth and lie watching TV on a Sunday with hair oiled to the tip. For all those times and more, there is no question of always looking the Sunday best. If my boyfriend loves me then he will love me always.
As far as I am concerned, finery is passé.