Yesterday I walked into the Beachside Sydney suburb Manly in jeans and steel-capped boots. It's summer, but I was headed for a job agency and wanting to look a little more like I wasn't on holiday. It was not a case of Where's Wally at all. I did not blend. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
This suburb has three main things - a wharf, a paved mall area, and a beach. Every half hour a ferry arrives and a shitload of people pile off it, and are then funneled through the mall area toward the beach. It's madness with sweaty bits. All with a uniform of board shorts and a tan.
But then there was Vic... Jeans and steel-capped boots.
It was an exercise in not caring of I fit in or not. I thought that being in the biggest city in this country, that I could wear what I want and feel no judgement from others about it. But no. I could imagine these people thinking what the hell are you doing at the beach in BOOTS, dyke bitch? in my mind and it was pretty damn annoying.
I'm being me, that's what.
And steel caps are pretty damn handy if anyone wants to get in my way.
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3 comments:
well, secretly all those ferry people were looking at you... the men were thinking "God damn why can't I look like THAT?" and the women were salivating...
trust me... I know
oxox
And also...some of the women were thinking "God damn, why can't I look like THAT?" and some of the men were salivating...;>
oh yeah, terr... I keep forgetting the whole het angle...
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