i’d like to personally apolgize to all the men that have been fooled by women via weaves, fake nails, miracle bras, contacts (ahem), j.lo style butt pads, corsets, spandex and closed-toe shoes masking claw-like hammertoes. I’d also like to place blame on every man that’s ever made a woman feel like less of a woman unless she’s sporting a weave, has long acrylic nails, wears a heavily padded bra, didn’t have vanessa william’s eyes or j.lo’s ass, had a little pudgy belly, thighs rubbed together and didn’t have enough dough to get her mani’s and pedi’s this month.
it’s like some sort of vicious cycle we go through. you want someone who’s “real”, but not “real real”. I say we all sport afros and don’t wear make-up, but that’s just me. hell, I don’t wear make-up anyway, it makes me break out.
it’s a two way street. women lie and mask their real faces to please men. and the men are pleased - then pleasently surprised when he sees her outside of the night club, without the black lights and the fog machines, and she has a slight resemblance to a *real woman, and not a doll. oh, the dichotomy of all that is fake and real. i don’t know why i wanted to write about this. i think i was just looking for an excuse to use the word “dichotomy”. hopefully i’ve used it correctly.
