My Appreciation For Ratch & 9 Other Reasons I’ll Never Be A Proper Lady
Every woman knows there are some unspoken rules about what it means to be a lady. A lady does this, a lady doesn’t do that. Everyone has their own version of “the rules.” Whatever they are, there are a few of them that I just don’t follow.
I don’t care about white deodorant marks
My friends always laugh at me because when I apply deodorant it’s six stripes for each pit. So, even if the deodorant claims to be invisible, by the time I get done with it, it’s clearly not. And I generally don’t make any effort to make them disappear. As a child who had to wear men’s deodorant when I hit puberty, my philosophy is it’s either see these white marks or endure the must.
You can look at my panty lines all you want
Now I’ll never look as bad as the woman in this picture because I don’t wear pants that are this tight, without a shirt covering my butt but I’m not a fan of wearing thongs every other day. So if you happen to see my panty lines through my jeans, it just is what it is. I remember back in elementary school it was like an obsessive game for people to see and let you know that they saw your underwear. Remember “I see London, I see France, I see ________ underpants”? But I learned long ago, from my grandmother, as long as my drawers are clean, go ahead and look.
I shave when I want to
I know some women are adamant about being smooth and clear at every possible moment. But me? Not so much. By late October, I’ve stopped shaving my legs for the year. And not really just legs either. I like to keep stuff clean and shaven but more so for hygienic and less cosmetic reasons. She’s got to breathe. But believe I wait until the last possible moment to take care of that.
I’m anti bra
I’m sure proper ladies would never be seen outside of the house without a bra. That’s not necessarily the case for me. If I’m wearing a camisole or another tight shirt that won’t show my nipples, then no bra it is.
I can’t maintain a manicure to save my life
I truly envy women whose nails are always done, freshly polished with no chips to speak of. That is so far from my life. If I paint my nails on Sunday night, by Tuesday morning they look like I’ve been gnawing on them. Maybe it’s all the typing or maybe I live some type of reckless life, but either way, it’s a struggle to keep a good polish.
Heels are not my friends
I’m not going to lie, I’m short and a lot of times I feel pressured to wear heels when I dress up. But really they make me uncomfortable. There’s something about them that’s so unnatural and even dangerous. I always think, if something pops off, would I be able to run in these things? Not as fast as I would in some flats. Which is why I usually have a pair in my bag. But these days, I’m starting to forgo the heels all together. I can enjoy myself so much more if my feet don’t hurt and I’m not worrying about my safety.
I love crude, lewd humor
When I tell you I love the movie Ted, I’m not joking. First my father and male teenage cousins saw the film and told me it was hilarious. Before I saw it, I just assumed it was just a guy movie. When I watched it for myself though, I was crying with laughter. The fart jokes, sexual humor and mild violence was everything to me. Really, I shouldn’t have been so surprised, they’re the same jokes I tell and laugh at in real life.
I’m too loud
All the women on my mother’s side of the family, speak so softly it’s almost like they’re whispering in regular conversation. So it was no surprise that the women in my family stressed that a lady doesn’t raise her voice, until absolutely necessary. Apparently, I took after my father on the volume level. I’m a proud loud.
I pick at my chin hairs in public
I’m sure real ladies don’t have facial hair. And if they do, I doubt they pick at them in public. For me, when I’m sitting idly in public and my hand happens to graze my face, if I feel a little hair, removing it becomes like a game to me. I have to get it! And I’ve often gone to great and very obvious means of doing so.
I have an appreciation for the ratch
I have very real standards of what is too much and what’s acceptable ratch. But sometimes I even surprise myself with the things I love and appreciate about that hood life. Would a proper lady practice clapping her booty in the mirror in the privacy of her own home? Probably not.