She comes in absence of colors
Time to answer Darkneuro's question--whose name, by the way, for my first couple of months of blogging, I stupidly used to think meant "dark 'n' Euro," but who in fact is a lovely, golden-haired American vixen who can cook up some mean recipes and write the hell outa a blog post. But despite her blondiness, she's still dark in her own lovely way.
And lovely darkness brings me to the answer to her questions:
I kinda/sorta started answering this question in an older meme here, but not the follow-up questions. So, let me start ovah and bettah.
What's your favorite color?
In my head, I haven't deemed anything a "favorite color" since I was a little girl. When I was a little girl, my favorite color was pink. Or at least that's what I told everyone. I wonder now if I did that because I knew "good girls" were supposed to say they liked pink.
But in reality, the color I have always been most attracted to, and have surrounded myself with most often since I first left home for college, has been black. My parents never dressed me in black as a kid. And in fact, it was impossible to find black clothing in the lame suburb I lived in during the neon and pastel '80s. But at age 17, when I tried on my first black dress, every person in the store I tried it on in stopped what they were doing, looked, and said it was perfect. And I knew it was true, even if they hadn't. I could feel it the minute I put it on--I had come home. Black and I just go together.
So, despite what I might be telling myself, it's clear (or perhaps, more aptly, opaque) that my favorite color is black.
And why?
My childhood icons of ultimate female beauty:
1. Morticia Addams
2. Miss Scarlet from the 1970s version of Clue
3. Catwoman (Julie Newmar version), 1970s TV Batman series
Notice the clothing color of all three. Notice the attitude with it. Sexuality, confidence, power. It was appealing to me even at five. These women were slinky, mysterious, confident in who they were. They had the freedom to make their own choices. They weren't mere objects for men--they had their own thing going on. And yet they were exceptionally alluring to men...but also a little scary to them. Men respected them, couldn't quite figure them out, wanted to get close--they knew they could possibly fuck them, but that they couldn't fuck with them or they might end up tangled up in man-eating flora, scratched within an inch of their lives, or getting the candlestick in the conservatory.
(Plus, I'm naturally gothic in coloring. Pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, high-pigment lips. So black just looks good on me.)
How does that color make you feel?
Safe. Protected. Dark. Mysterious. Alluring. Untouchable. Powerful. Sexy. Noticeable. Hidden. Stylish. Scary. Come hither-y. Venus fly trappy. Thinner. Curvy/slinky. Confident. Secret. Right. How I am, inside. How I want to be seen, outside.
And how often do you use that color in your day-to-day life?
HA! I have probably worn at least SOMETHING black every day of my life since I was 17. There was a time it was all I would wear. So much so that in college, I made some crack about trying to avoid someone and how maybe I should walk around like "the unknown comic" with a bag over my head, and my good friend and housemate instantly, sarcily retorted, "But it would have to be a black bag."
Black has felt like who I am since I can remember. It might always be that way, I don't know. But lately, I feel like maybe I'm done with that. Maybe I want more color. Maybe I'm sick of hiding and feeling dark and protected. I've been trying to add more color into my wardrobe. I look kick-ass in red and royal blue, for instance. I've been really into Tiffany blue/green, though I haven't hazarded wearing it yet. I love the color of leaves (in all seasons). I like orange. I want more brightness, boldness. That's what I've been craving. So I'm trying to um...retrain myself out of all black, all the time.
Right now, as I said once a few moons ago on Karl Elvis's blog, even when I try to wear pink, it still looks like black. Or at least it feels that way to me. Like I'm pretending--covering up the black, but it's still there. I'll probably always be a little gothy at the core. But who knows, maybe someday I'll wear aqua and silver and only look and feel all shimmery aqua and silver. (But underneath, I bet I'll still be wearing black lingerie.)
And lovely darkness brings me to the answer to her questions:
What's your favorite color and why? How does that color make you feel, and how often do you use that color in your day-to-day life?
I kinda/sorta started answering this question in an older meme here, but not the follow-up questions. So, let me start ovah and bettah.
What's your favorite color?
In my head, I haven't deemed anything a "favorite color" since I was a little girl. When I was a little girl, my favorite color was pink. Or at least that's what I told everyone. I wonder now if I did that because I knew "good girls" were supposed to say they liked pink.
But in reality, the color I have always been most attracted to, and have surrounded myself with most often since I first left home for college, has been black. My parents never dressed me in black as a kid. And in fact, it was impossible to find black clothing in the lame suburb I lived in during the neon and pastel '80s. But at age 17, when I tried on my first black dress, every person in the store I tried it on in stopped what they were doing, looked, and said it was perfect. And I knew it was true, even if they hadn't. I could feel it the minute I put it on--I had come home. Black and I just go together.
So, despite what I might be telling myself, it's clear (or perhaps, more aptly, opaque) that my favorite color is black.
And why?
My childhood icons of ultimate female beauty:
1. Morticia Addams
2. Miss Scarlet from the 1970s version of Clue
3. Catwoman (Julie Newmar version), 1970s TV Batman series
Notice the clothing color of all three. Notice the attitude with it. Sexuality, confidence, power. It was appealing to me even at five. These women were slinky, mysterious, confident in who they were. They had the freedom to make their own choices. They weren't mere objects for men--they had their own thing going on. And yet they were exceptionally alluring to men...but also a little scary to them. Men respected them, couldn't quite figure them out, wanted to get close--they knew they could possibly fuck them, but that they couldn't fuck with them or they might end up tangled up in man-eating flora, scratched within an inch of their lives, or getting the candlestick in the conservatory.
(Plus, I'm naturally gothic in coloring. Pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, high-pigment lips. So black just looks good on me.)
How does that color make you feel?
Safe. Protected. Dark. Mysterious. Alluring. Untouchable. Powerful. Sexy. Noticeable. Hidden. Stylish. Scary. Come hither-y. Venus fly trappy. Thinner. Curvy/slinky. Confident. Secret. Right. How I am, inside. How I want to be seen, outside.
And how often do you use that color in your day-to-day life?
HA! I have probably worn at least SOMETHING black every day of my life since I was 17. There was a time it was all I would wear. So much so that in college, I made some crack about trying to avoid someone and how maybe I should walk around like "the unknown comic" with a bag over my head, and my good friend and housemate instantly, sarcily retorted, "But it would have to be a black bag."
Black has felt like who I am since I can remember. It might always be that way, I don't know. But lately, I feel like maybe I'm done with that. Maybe I want more color. Maybe I'm sick of hiding and feeling dark and protected. I've been trying to add more color into my wardrobe. I look kick-ass in red and royal blue, for instance. I've been really into Tiffany blue/green, though I haven't hazarded wearing it yet. I love the color of leaves (in all seasons). I like orange. I want more brightness, boldness. That's what I've been craving. So I'm trying to um...retrain myself out of all black, all the time.
Right now, as I said once a few moons ago on Karl Elvis's blog, even when I try to wear pink, it still looks like black. Or at least it feels that way to me. Like I'm pretending--covering up the black, but it's still there. I'll probably always be a little gothy at the core. But who knows, maybe someday I'll wear aqua and silver and only look and feel all shimmery aqua and silver. (But underneath, I bet I'll still be wearing black lingerie.)
posted by Miss Syl at 10:04 AM
2 Comments:
Actually, black is a great color. And you're willing to 'accent' with other colors. That's cool. There's more than 'goth' for black. There's 'artsy' that does black. Diane von Furstenburg refused to wear anything but. It works. And it makes laundry a hellofalot easier. And you DO wear it. That's a plus. My favorite color is purple, and I don't wear it. I look good in it, I just don't buy it. I don't think to.
Then out to buy some purple with you, now, young lady.
Yeah, I feel artsy in it, too. Even more than gothy. I was never a full-out goth--I don't like all that makeup.
And the laundry thing is true. And you never have to worry if x thing matches y thing. It's made things way easier.
Post a Comment
<<Back to Sexeteria home