It’s time for a peacock rant…
· I have viewed thousands of television commercials and a gazillion outdoor advertisements
· I have flipped through millions of pages of slick gloss magazines—fashion and otherwise
· I have endured too many long hours of radio, internet and overheard discussion
And I have come to the following conclusion
[drum roll, please]
America, you LOVE the word, sexy—but you have no concept of what it means
It’s a bit like the F-bomb—used as a noun, adjective, verb and adverb—sometimes, all in the same utterance
But I digress
How can beer and cheese possibly be sexy? Or paint? Or someone’s tractor for goodness sake?
This strange assignation of sexy to all activities, people, products…well, to everything actually makes nothing sexy.
When we moved into our current community 23 years ago, my husband (who IS very sexy!) was asked to sit on the school board of the institution our young ones attended. [btw—school boards are very UN-SEXY—actually, they are a bit tedious…] He came home after the first meeting to share the news that someone wanted a gifted and talented program developed at this small Catholic grade school. Okay, but it seemed that all of the parents knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that their children were indeed gifted and talented.
That is what I’m talking about with this sexy thing.
[Maybe I could just ask the nation to, um, have a private convo with me and just, let this sexy thing go, you know???]
Actually, this usage has bothered me a long time. In fact, it really gets under my skin. Not only do we trendily assign the term to everything, which is just silly, we do some damage to ourselves.
Why do I need products, clothing, auras, whatever, to make myself appear (not necessarily be) sexy every moment of the day? I mean, if you saw me upon my waking….
And so what?
Who are we needing to be sexy for? And why? Call me odd and foolish, but I thought my sense of self, my personhood, my integrity, what I bring to this world is what matters. Now, because I know myself, I feather this being to speak to that inner soul. Now THAT is sexy.
I am concerned that we as a culture are sending messages to the girls and women in our lives that sexy is so important that it trumps all else. Not only that, but sexy becomes equated with slutty and disrespectful. I certainly don’t want the women I know and love to take on that garbage.
Here is my take on it: Sexy is the intimate attractive. It’s Tom paying for my coffee and me finding that out as I go for said morning java…and being surprised and delighted. It’s me picking out the handmade dark chocolate peanut butter cup for Tom on the days I get my hair cut. It’s us condoning each other’s messy selves when it’s jammy time at the end of the day, and it’s also choosing to dress special when we have the occasional eve out. It’s the intimate, the special, the tender and the just for each other.
Sexy is also the lived sense of self that is true. Hopefully, after one’s outer appearance is initially checked out [we all do this!], it is the soul that we see.
In other words, it’s not my car, my boat, my house, my dinner…or anything else someone is trying to sell based on sex.
Okay, you may argue that a certain man or woman celebrity icon is sexy. I’ll leave that up to you to figure out why.
Rant ended. Thanks for enduring!
Have a great Friday and go eat some sexy pizza…