Monday, November 9, 2009

Bring Sexy Back.

A few months ago, I was on a date with the hubbs. We found a postcard for a Boudoir Portrait party laying on the bar. Free drinks, 8x10 framed portrait, hair and makeup, psychic readings and chocolate.

I emptied the contents of my glass and said, “Honey, let’s go.” He slammed his beer and nodded. He was ready. I was wearing his favorite lingerie and the party was right next door. It was meant to be.

Women ranging in age from twenty-one to sixty were smiling, laughing, talking and drinking. Husbands were draining their beer bottles, watching their wives transform into sex kittens. Sweet magic was injected back into a lot of marriages that night.

My hair was Brigitte Bardot and my makeup was set on “whore”, but I didn’t care. I’ve always been the conservative good girl next door and wanted to break out of my shell for once, goddammit. After knocking back a couple glasses of champagne I was ready to rock. As I made my way to the private studio for my personal photo, women were hollering encouragement and support. "You GO girl!"

But the bubbly wasn’t the only thing intoxicating that night. It was the vibe of women supporting other women. I think that's missing in the real world. We're so busy comparing our asses to our friend's asses. Our muffin tops to our colleague's abs. Our thin lips to our neighbor's full lips...

Men don't do this. My husband has never said, "Is my ass bigger than Tom's ass?" He also doesn't stare at other men's abs, thighs, arms or backfat. Men don't give a shit about other men's bodies. They don't feel "less than" if a ripped twenty year old walks by them on the beach. They understand they haven't lost value just because another guy does a million crunches every morning.

I think women forgot they're on the same team. Just because your neighbor is a tennis star and certified yogi, doesn't make you less than who you are. And when women unite instead of compete, it's a powerful thing. The Boudoir party was an example of that. No one cared if someone had bat wings (underarm fat) or muffin tops. We were too busy feeling proud of each other and ourselves for having a picture taken while relatively naked.

It was a slice of time where we stripped down the walls of competition that night and became emotionally naked too. It was an extra gift that wasn't included in the price, but by far the most valuable.

I think it would be an amazing way to celebrate turning forty. I have a lot of friends ringing in the new decade this year. What a fun way to celebrate your forty years of fabulousness!

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