Let me just say that I love Michelle Obama. She is charming, unassuming and strong – PLUS, she has perfect upper arms.
But, what is going on? Women everywhere are sporting sleeveless dresses in the middle of winter. Not only that, but women whose upper arms need serious help are also wearing them. Dear God. Why are we so willing to follow a trend when it clearly does not do a thing for most of us? Is it that we are weak without fashion flare of our own? Is this like high school when the most popular girl in school had an entourage of schoolmates wearing similar garb? Is this like being in the “in” crowd?
Hero worship has always been a part of our social fabric. We take a celebrity and, by emulating them, we too feel like – well – a semi-celebrity. We walk in their shadows.
Grow up ladies. Look in the mirror. Those sleeveless tops are fine for summer in the searing heat, wearing flip-flops and sipping on a Margarita. Or, if you are one of those very few who sport lovely toned upper arms like Michelle, then at least dress for the weather.
How can I describe her? When I first met her, she looked “cheap”, “hard”. There was that do-it-yourself bleach job, for starters. She suffered from acne. Her voice was tinny, jarring, guttural, clipped and sometimes, shrieking. Although very fair-skinned she wore heavy black eyeliner on her upper lids. She painted her eyebrows black. Her skin was oily so, by mid-day, the painted eyebrows glistened and sometimes smeared. She talked tough. You’d think she had slept with every man in town. Years later, I learned she’d been a virgin all that time. Maybe she wanted to draw attention to herself. Well, she did but in a negative way.
Jane was very thin yet her hips and thighs were ample. She had no bust to speak of. Furthermore, she seemed weary of life, although she was only nineteen at the time. Jane was, at best, a curiosity. Some of the girls chided her. Some, like me, were curious and wanted to get to know her better. Despite outward appearances Jane was friendly and looked like she desperately wanted to be liked. Most of the girls shied away from her. I guess it was that hard edge that turned some people off. Tough girls are hard to like. Read more…
Well, I don’t think that’s right, do you? If they can cast their votes while hiding their faces, then I can wear a false nose and glasses and go vote. Come on.
I don’t give a sweet you-know-what about religion and all that hocus-pocus. What’s right is right. It’s bad enough they run around with the head scarf and such. No style. No class. Women held in bondage – looking unattractive. Why? So nobody will look at them? In fact, it has the opposite effect. Everybody looks at them. Enslavement – self imposed. Good night. Meanwhile, their men can do what they want. Drink, screw around. Oh, that’s OK for them to do.
Come on, ladies. Get a life. Go shopping. Set yourself free.