I had just arrived at Jefferson station after a weekend of dog-watching for my parents. Struggling with my luggage and puppy, as per usual, I am greeted with a "Yo!" from the flight of stairs above me. I look up, and assuming catcalling is to follow, I keep walking. But of course, as I reach the top of the steps, I am approached.
"I can't tell if you're a Kardashian or not behind those shades."
I roll my eyes (behind the "shades" so he doesn't actually see it, but I feel way more badass afterwards)
"Are you sure you're not related? I don't normally do this but, uh- can I get a number or something? You're so pretty, oh! Cute dog, too. I like your style. And DAMN, look at that body.. those legs (might I add that my greasy hair was thrown up in a bun, and I was wearing an oversized crewneck sweatshirt, stolen from my dad, leggings, and beat up sneaks- there was absolutely nothing attractive about me). Grrruhm, if I could just.. I like you. I don't really know you but I like you, and I know that this could go somewhere. We could make really beautiful mixed babies"
Ya know, I don't like to call myself a feminist (dumb, I know), but hey, maybe I am one because, just... what? Are you serious? You just followed me for three blocks, sir. I ignored you for the better half of those two and a half minutes, sir. Did your friends dare you to act like a crazy person, or did you truly think that I was about to go home with you, sir?
"Yes, please, please, please! Take me home with you! I thought you were NEVER going to ask!"
Women are objectified on a daily basis by men on the street. Pet names, sex offers, you name it, I and every other woman has heard it. (One time a guy said to Lola, my dog, and I that he wasn't sure who's legs were sexier. I can't make these things up). Don't freak out, though, I'm really not writing to preach against catcalling. It's just helping me to inform the body of work that I'm slowly developing.
So basically this is just a big 'thank you' note, to you, stranger, who followed me for three blocks down 11th street, for helping me to make more sense of my work, and for giving me ammunition for future works. (You're welcome for not calling the cops on you).
Oh and if you're wondering how the rest of this conversations went... I turned around and told him he was crazy. He then replied,
"Yeah, but only a little bit crazy, You should try dating me. It could be fun. What's your name, Brittany, Tessa, Julie?"
Again I said, "You are literally crazy." (Like every stereotypical, middle class, Caucasian, young adult woman would say).
And then he told me to try blackpeople.com. I may or may not have thrown a little F*** off towards the end there, but that's besides the point. The point is that I'm interested in how humans interact with each other based on their perceptions of beauty. Certain body parts call attention- which parts are supposed to be curvy? What is supposed to be flat, again? I am exploring how contorting the body and implying a certain "fatness" or "skinny-ness" of a form can make viewers feel. What is beautiful, and how does the idea of it change and evolve over time? What about the body can be gross, or what is attractive about it?
On a serious note, though, if Beauty and I were to go FBO, it'd be like It's Complicated. It's such a curious topic to me.
But really just remember that if you got it, flaunt it (whatever it is...?? ).