Thursday, 14 July 2011

I Never Was A Model

This was bought into sharp relief when I purchased several pairs of  M&S Autograph boxer shorts. On the packaging male models paraded, bronzed torso's rippling, finely contoured Lycra clinging snugly around immense crown jewels. Strangely, when I donned those self same items I cannot but suspect that had I been the model, sales would not have been so high. You see, I never really had a six pack, and I probably weigh in at around the national average in those more protruding areas. In short, I probably do these items a disservice; they frankly deserve a better clothes horse.
Only then I got to thinking about self image, and what it is that actually makes a person attractive? Whilst Calvin Klein won't be knocking on my door anytime soon I don't think I'm a total lost cause. So perhaps my tummy would make a good pillow, but my bum's not in bad nick, and I'm told I have lovely eyes. So based on that I'm not intending to lock myself away from public view anytime soon. Besides, the right clothing can conceal a multitude of sins, and thankfully none of you will ever have to see me naked. 
Truth is, I'm kind of relaxed about how I'm perceived. I know that many people really do struggle with self image,though, and I do have some sympathy. Fact is, we all want to be well received, and at the end of the day we're social creatures, aren't we?But who exactly is it driving us into thinking that we have to be perfectly toned? Maybe we've all bought into the media myth that beauty can be manufactured? Air brushed?  Sharp dressed? Perhaps we're slaves to a monster of our own making? 
Going out on a limb, I'm damned sure that sexy isn't the sole property of the beautiful people of the world. And frankly, I expect some of the best shags never went anywhere near a catwalk. They became sexy because they were open and engaging and self aware; prepared to explore sexuality and sensuality instead of being fearful of it. If I've lowered the tone then so be it. This is just my clumsy way of saying that neither sexy nor desirable comes in generic form. Admit it, sexy can be found in a look, in a smile, or in an intellect. Some people just have that certain something, an ability to charm and beguile in ways that Mr and Mrs perfect never will. So if it's all the same to you I'm just going to get on with the business of being imperfect, mischievous me. My tummy may not ripple, my jaw isn't square, and I can butcher even the finest male underwear. But this is the hand I've been dealt and it's served me well thus far. Perhaps we should all let ourselves of the hook more often instead of aspiring to be something that we're not?

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