|It kinda hit me as I was packing. Comfy clothes. No pantyhose.
No pumps. Only one bra; I seldom wear them anymore.
Two pairs of shoes. One is a pair of flats, the other pair is what in the Army is called chlorofram low quarters. I think civilians call them patent leather oxfords. Not sure, though.
I tossed a razor into the bag. I only shave for really, really important occasions.
When did this happen?
I think it must have been a gradual thing, starting with the decision I had to make when my cosmetic allergy came to light. Pick one: wear makeup one day out of three and spend the other two with a rashy face, or give up the whole practice of it.
Over the years I have become less and less tolerant of discomfort. As pregnancy widened my feet and I outgrew all my heels, I didn't replace them. My last pair, black suede stilettos, bit the dust last week.
Now, I am not an all-or-nothing kind of person. I will probably replace the stilettos, and there is that Almay lipstick in my backpack. I do own bras, some really, really pretty. In fact, I've thrown out all the bras that aren't particularly pretty.
Maybe it's about practicality. I won't wear something or do something to my body just cuz somebody else thinks I should. However, I am willing to put up with some discomfort if there's something in it for me.
If I badly wanna get laid, I'll wear the heels.
So, you be the judge. I have no experience in these things.
Do I dress like a feminist?
--2 October 97