What does it mean for your relationship when she doesn't respond to your dms, is a top instagram influencer, is gorgeous and talented, and has also never spoken to you before
Hey beautiful, I'm back and I'm bigger than ever (this is not a joke it is true, I've been mainling carbs like a true freak) and the choice to use only a single beautiful instead of the more commonly accepted "beautifuls" in referring to my captive (no honey I didn't mean to say captivated) audience was due to my desire to be more approachable and also to make this post more personable so don't flip out if it feels like I am maintaining direct eye contact with you in a darkened room while touching your hand, as that was a calculated effect and you are in good hands.
The days in Florence are long and hot. The evenings are welcome for the first instant when you leave your home, and then thoroughly cursed and roundly abused when you realize that the freaks decide that in the moonlight the city is for the taking, so they sit around and make comments about your dress and shout things at you. It is very disheartening and confusing to realize that one of your favorite outfits gives rise to these unnecessary comments -- disheartening because I realize that, oh yes, so survival of the fittest does indeed have some outliers, and confusing because it gives rise to some warring emotions: a deep-seated anarchic need to continue wearing what I want and hang the detractors, concern for my safety over what these dickless wonders are capable of, and, excruciatingly, a hint of suspicion that continuing to wear clothing according to my tastes is giving in to what they want. I'll illustrate this.
I dress pretty well within American standards of modesty (at least, in Virginia). Shorts and skirts, off the shoulder tops, undershirts, etc - cover the bits I want private, tan and cool the others. Pretty reasonable.
I like to think that I act independently, and hope that that stretches to my clothing too. However, I've come to realize that ofc my taste has been molded at least in part by what American men think women should wear by viewing their opinions on billboards, magazines, ads in the corner of my computer screen, etc. why is it that american women dress so much less conservatively than Italian women?
Well I've thought this through a couple times, and each incarnation of this issue has led to me becoming more and more despairing that this train of thought will ever stop anywhere interesting. I feel like I'm on some kind of trans country line from say Illinois to Wisconsin. What the hell is at the start, what the hell is at the end, and what in the holy unbecoming hell is in the middle? The most diverting thing to happen would be peering out a single dusty window and watching a clutch of vultures pick at old roadkill. No curiosity is powerful enough to investigate. Albert Einstein would take one look and his eyes would glaze over. Essentially the argument boils down to 1) men have controlled how women dress throughout the ages 2) this is still true today 3) you will never truly know how much of you is your inner nature versus the influence of others.
Maybe some Mad Men sitting in some New York high rise devised an ad campaign that convinced women to raise their hemlines a centimeter so they could feast their old piggish eyes. Or maybe I decided that I was too hot to wear 3/4s today. Whatever the reason, this old man on his doorstep is still going to lick his lips at me. And I'm still going to ridicule him as the pathetic spineless amoeba who missed his hey day and now relies on making women feel vaguely uncomfortable to get his stone-age rocks off.
So essentially, why the hell should I care if some asshole in a wifebeater whistles at me and my romper flashes some devo cleavage? I can think of no possible rational explanation, and I will not be entertaining submissions thank you. I'm going to look fly as fuck and if anyone tries to grab at me I'm going to karate chop their dick into orbit.