Why Do We Believe Men Have No Self-Control?

WHY I CHOSE TO NO LONGER WEAR LEGGINGS 
Blogger Veronica Partridge 

For the past several months, I have been having a conviction weighing heavy on my heart. I tried ignoring it for as long as I could until one day a conversation came up amongst myself and a few others (both men and women). The conversation was about leggings and how when women wear them it creates a stronger attraction for a man to look at a woman’s body and may cause them to think lustful thoughts. God really changed my heart in the midst of that conversation and instead of ignoring my convictions, I figured it was time I start listening to them and take action. 

 I went home later that day and shared the convictions I was having with my husband. Was it possible my wearing leggings could cause a man, other than my husband, to think lustfully about my body? I asked my husband his thoughts on the matter when he got home. I appreciated his honesty when he told me, “yeah, when I walk into a place and there are women wearing yoga pants everywhere, it’s hard to not look. I try not to, but it’s not easy.” 

 I instantly felt conviction come over me even stronger. Not that I wasn’t feeling it earlier, or else I wouldn’t have thought twice about the conversation, but after talking to Dale, it hit me a lot harder. If it is difficult for my husband who loves, honors, and respects me to keep his eyes focused ahead, then how much more difficult could it be for a man that may not have the same self-control? Sure, if a man wants to look, they are going to look, but why entice them? Is it possible that the thin, form-fitting yoga pants or leggings could make a married (or single) man look at a woman in a way he should only look at his wife? 

 And at that moment, I made a personal vow to myself and to my husband. I will no longer wear thin, form-fitting yoga pants or leggings in public. The only time I feel (for myself) it is acceptable to wear them, is if I am in the comfort of my own home or if I am wearing a shirt long enough to cover my rear end. I also want to set the best example of how to dress for my daughter. I want her to know, her value is not in the way her body looks or how she dresses, but in the character and personality God has given her. I have been following the vow I made to myself for the past couple of weeks now and though it may be difficult to find an outfit at times, my conscience is clear and I feel I am honoring God and my husband in the way I dress.

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This was making the rounds last week.

Initially I just snorted and thought to myself, "Must be a slow news day."

The more it tumbled around in my brain, the more indignant I became.

I realize this is only one blogger and not the universal thought, yet the fact that it received so much press bothered me.

The message that is screaming at me from all of this is Men Can't Be Held Accountable.

How insulting and frankly, sexist is that thinking? I mean, if a woman is running around in leggings with a shapely backside she is inciting in the heart of men lust, ungodly thoughts, and makes him lose the ability to govern his own thoughts. Because men are just that base, uncontrollable, and childlike.

Why just the backside then? Maybe we should cover our legs at all times as well? A shapely leg can get some men thinking racy thoughts. Or breasts. Just the curve of a breast through a t-shirt or sweater could change a man's day yes? Or feet. A pretty foot could just about make a man or two breathe a little heavier.

What bullshit.

Or reverse this thinking hmm? Women have thoughts as well when they see an attractive man out and about. Whether it's his backside or the curve of his back into his pants or maybe a glimpse of nice abs.

Just when you could believe we are making strides towards a new think crap like this makes the news and I realize that all of that is just illusion.

Watch your men all of you women out there. He just can't control himself and who knows what he'll do when left to his own devices!

grr and gah

Now, That's a Good Body

I've been blessed with a good body.

No, not that way you schnook. (Excuse the Yiddish. I'm obsessed.)

I mean that my body is healthy, strong, in a certain light appealing, and nicely reactive. It works mostly how I need it to work and if it doesn't work a certain way it responds rather quickly to learning something new.

Kinda like my brain.

So, with this blessing comes accountability. Meaning, if it isn't behaving the way I need it to; who can I point at? Why, that would be me!

Yep and yes. Done and done. Had to be said. For me, the visual word is so much better than a thought. So here's my visual Mr. DeMille! (cue vague movie-reference). Bloop!

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Sidenote Thought - Going to the Movies

Pup, Shelley-Belly, and I went to see Gravity.

I might be the ONLY person on the planet (yuck yuck yuck) that didn't like this movie. For whatever reason, I was unable to suspend belief. I have a feeling it was my mood, but maybe a flaw in me. Who knows. I HATED it. Pup and SB liked it! I do love Sandra Bullock and George makes me laugh. But it was a nogo that evening.

::sad face::

In a bizarre, validating kind of way, it made me feel good to hate this movie. I usually love every movie I see and feel very pollyannaish in that.

Or I'm a bitch and going to fry in hell.

You pick!

Sunday Funday!

Quote

Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance-hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits.

The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling.

~Tina Fey

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When I'm all done growing up (which, let's face it, will never happen) I want to be smart, funny, and adorkable like this woman.

I already have the glasses. The rest can't be far behind yes?

Just Like Audrey Hepburn

It's been a long and hot summer.

And, as mentioned, I've been wearing nothing but skirts, dresses, tanks. Nothing with legs or sleeves. My happiest days are when I can say, "I'm wearing only two things!" Pup usually says, "Take one off!"

That's how hot it's been. And now it's September. And still pretty hot. And I work retail. Where you're running around. And I'm hot. I just am!

Yesterday morning I had to open at The Turnstyle. I haven't opened in a loooooong time. In fact a lot of this hot summer I wasn't at work at all with all the Barnabee squiring I was involved in (smooches Barnabee).

Before I leave for work I stand in front of my closet. Peering into its depths. There is more in there than needs to be - hey, I'm a woman. But just between you and me? That closet is out of control. No matter how much I edit and purge and ween out crap, it's full full full.

Imagine the sound of hangers being shuttled to the left, click click click. I go deeper and deeper.

Aha! A little black dress. Sleeveless. To the knee. A kick pleat in the back. Price tag still on. WTH?

A woman phenomenon. We buy stuff on sale. My favorite phrase is, "It costs less than a latte!" Nothing makes me happier than a price tag with several strikes through the price making it lower and lower and than it's thrown in a 75 percent off rack. Oh the heaven of it all. Even at The Turnstyle, a consignment store, I love when it's at least 50 percent off.

But I digress, of course.

I clip off the tag. Look lovingly at the price. "Ooooo, that was a good shopping day." I slip on the dress.

I like to turn to the side, suck everything in perfectly, admire my front bumps and back bumps, and convince myself how amazing I look. Hey - it's all presentation. Even when you catch a glimpse of the back bump in motion. Oye vey!

I throw my badly behaved hair up high in a clip, pull out some very artful hangy-pieces (yup - otherwise known as what-the-hell hair) and call it a day.

I trot off to work where new young un interim manager/intern Izzy and Shelley-belly tell me I look just like Audrey Hepburn.

Yup, I look exactly like this, right down to the sunglasses and coffee.

Oh the power of a little black dress! And be quiet y'all. A girl can have a moment yes?

Hooches - repeat after me - I may not be everything, but I sure am something!

Go get em!

Bodies

I find this incredibly interesting.

Why, indeed, is it palatable to observe all kinds of manufactured cleavage, but not cleavage like this?

Breasts move people. At least they used to.

Small ones, medium ones, big ones. They jiggle, they bounce, they are delicious!


We have been spoon-fed the hard and large surgeon-enhanced canyon-cleavaged breasts to the point where everyone believes that is how women look. That boobs spring directly out of chests poking and prodding their way ala Heidi Montag into our line of vision. Intrusive nipples and all.

Where did it all go so wrong? When was it decided that the only acceptable body type is a boy-hipped girl with 32DDDs?

Think of all the beautiful women from years gone by.

Goldie Hawn

Rachel Welch

Elizabeth Taylor

Lauren Hutton

Jill Clayburgh

Cybill Shepherd

Marilyn Monroe

Sophia Loren

Twiggy

Different shapes, beautiful woman. A type for everyone's liking. A cover for every pot.

Why do we want to limit ourselves to one acceptable body type?

Halloween Devils

This isn't the Devil.

This is!

Fearless

http://fashionloveandmartinis.blogspot.com/

I woke up this morning with no intention of writing on this subject, but I stumbled on this video while doing my coffee and morning blog and twitter readings (thanks Maegan!).

This darling girl is only in her 20s and she has already begun her soul-scorching crossing into self-awareness.

How many of us have been where Amanda is right now? How many times? How many? It's a private struggle for us. Maybe we share it with our closest peeps, but mostly it's left deep inside to mock us and nag us and judge us.

Where are you with this today?