SO I woke up late today, having had many bouts of insomnia in the last month, and washed my hair, and dried my hair and then threw some clothes on and walked to the bus stop. And while I was waiting at the bus stop, SIXTEEN CARS BEEPED AT ME, and at least three times that many stared.
I've examined every inch of myself in the public toilet - twice. There is nothing that I can find wrong with the way I look. No blood spatters. No flaps of skin hanging off where I grazed myself without realising. No "SHAG ME" written on the back of my sweater in red lipstick. I'm chubby, but no chubbier than I was yesterday.
The only thing I can assume is that you can see my panties through my skirt. It's a white skirt, a bit diaphanous (although only a bit)...but it's summer, and a lot of women are wearing gauzy skirts, and anyway since when has a woman's underwear been a newsworthy event? From the way they've been acting, you'd think I was standing here naked.
Which is making me wonder, is there something else? Because even when I was sitting on the bus, with my bag in my lap so nobody could see anything, people were still staring at me. I don't know what else it could be, though. Sure, my hair looks like it's been cut with the kitchen scissors (which is no coincidence; I hacked most of it off the other night and haven't managed to get to the hair salon yet), but it's not really that obvious, especially compared with some of the things I've seen on TV and models recently. And there's nothing on my face except bare makeup and a couple of (not particularly noticeable) mosquito bites.
So seriously, WTF is going on?
I'm not really all that keen on attention, to be honest. I get far too much of it, and any novelty value has long ago worn off. People seem to like to talk to me and touch me, and it doesn't seem to occur to them that maybe I don't want to be touched or complimented by strangers. Mostly it's pretty polite, as far as it CAN be - the touches mostly come in the form of tucking in my labels or brushing away non-existent lint or admiring my clothing, and since they happen at least a couple of times a week I've learned to deal with them with a "thank you" and a smile, even when I'm freaking out a little inside. Likewise with the compliments: unless they're leering at me when they say them (and even sometimes then) I smile and thank whoever it is that stopped me. Half the time it's not even remotely sexual, anyway - it's old people wanting to tell me how much I remind them of their granddaughter, or women, or kids wanting a hug. It's only when I go alone to places like Camden or Barking that I get enough male attention that I start to feel harassed, so I mostly stay away from those places, at least when I'm on my own.
But days like today freak the hell out of me. Even if the skirt weren't gauzy, even if my hair were normal, even if I had absolutely nothing wrong with the way I look and could only assume that the car beeps and the stares were complimentary...it would still freak the hell out of me.
I don't know why all the attention, either today or in general. It's not like I'm some supermodel, for pete's sake.
I've examined every inch of myself in the public toilet - twice. There is nothing that I can find wrong with the way I look. No blood spatters. No flaps of skin hanging off where I grazed myself without realising. No "SHAG ME" written on the back of my sweater in red lipstick. I'm chubby, but no chubbier than I was yesterday.
The only thing I can assume is that you can see my panties through my skirt. It's a white skirt, a bit diaphanous (although only a bit)...but it's summer, and a lot of women are wearing gauzy skirts, and anyway since when has a woman's underwear been a newsworthy event? From the way they've been acting, you'd think I was standing here naked.
Which is making me wonder, is there something else? Because even when I was sitting on the bus, with my bag in my lap so nobody could see anything, people were still staring at me. I don't know what else it could be, though. Sure, my hair looks like it's been cut with the kitchen scissors (which is no coincidence; I hacked most of it off the other night and haven't managed to get to the hair salon yet), but it's not really that obvious, especially compared with some of the things I've seen on TV and models recently. And there's nothing on my face except bare makeup and a couple of (not particularly noticeable) mosquito bites.
So seriously, WTF is going on?
I'm not really all that keen on attention, to be honest. I get far too much of it, and any novelty value has long ago worn off. People seem to like to talk to me and touch me, and it doesn't seem to occur to them that maybe I don't want to be touched or complimented by strangers. Mostly it's pretty polite, as far as it CAN be - the touches mostly come in the form of tucking in my labels or brushing away non-existent lint or admiring my clothing, and since they happen at least a couple of times a week I've learned to deal with them with a "thank you" and a smile, even when I'm freaking out a little inside. Likewise with the compliments: unless they're leering at me when they say them (and even sometimes then) I smile and thank whoever it is that stopped me. Half the time it's not even remotely sexual, anyway - it's old people wanting to tell me how much I remind them of their granddaughter, or women, or kids wanting a hug. It's only when I go alone to places like Camden or Barking that I get enough male attention that I start to feel harassed, so I mostly stay away from those places, at least when I'm on my own.
But days like today freak the hell out of me. Even if the skirt weren't gauzy, even if my hair were normal, even if I had absolutely nothing wrong with the way I look and could only assume that the car beeps and the stares were complimentary...it would still freak the hell out of me.
I don't know why all the attention, either today or in general. It's not like I'm some supermodel, for pete's sake.
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