I walked through the door of the penthouse with a half feeling of dread, rising to the surface from the boiling pot of presumption and stereotypical thoughts swirling around in my mind.
My best friend looked at me and said , “ Uh, I think we are in pre-baby boomer land.”
I swallowed and replied back, “Pre- baby boomer my ass. We are in the land of Pre-nupers!”
20 something’s that are living off of trust funds in multi million dollar penthouses where the paintings on the walls are enough to make a mature art collector salivate- yet the owner is on the couch showing off his highest score on the latest video games- not the art collection.
I walked out on the balcony and just did what I do best…
I observed the sea of people before me.
I watched as the 20 something girls, who strangely enough all in some way resembled each other. Even though there were blonde’s(mostly), red heads and brunettes.
I watched these girls with there thousands of dollars of accessories and their hair tossing and their spray on tans…
I looked at the handbags and the shoes and the designer clothing-
And I thought to myself, what does this remind me of?
I was not being judgmental, only taking an honest observation of the scene I found myself in. I like my handbags, shoes and accessories too.
These girls had everything you could possibly need to be “hot” or be the center of attention. Minus one attribute.
Not one of them had that mystique that captures men and stops them in their tracks.
Not one of them had the perfume of intrigue that you can pick up from across the room on a sensuous woman.
I pointed that out to my friend. She agreed.
Again I asked myself what does this remind me of?
The handbags and shoes and jewelry and dresses?
And then it came to me-
Yep. That is what came to me.
A cat can do its business and sit there over and over making sure that mess gets covered up.
But after all its hard work and underneath all the litter?
MESS is still there.
Kind of like the handbags. You can dress yourself up with the best, work really hard to make sure it is all “covered” up-
But underneath it is still a MESS.
My friend and I laughed at these young guys, realizing that they probably wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves outside of this “litter box”.
I decided to do a little test and told my friend, “Let’s try something. I am going to pick a guy and make eye contact with him. I am going to hold his gaze, unapologetically. I am going to stop his conversation in mid-sentence- I am going to make him blush like a little girlJ.”
She laughed and was up for the experiement.
We stood, backs against the counter when I spotted my contestant.
He was in a conversation with a couple of people, facing me.
I looked at him, he looked up at me- I did not look away. I did not smile. My lips slightly parted, I just stared.
My friend had to turn around to keep from laughing, because he literally lost it. He couldn’t complete his sentence. Lost all concentration. Became so nervous he started fidgeting with his shirt and his pockets. Like a little school boy.
My best friend whispered under her breath, “Wow, that is amazing. It is like he has never seen a woman before.”
Yet, he was in a room full of them.
Sensuality is a missing chip in a lot of the girls I witness today. That art form that old Hollywood portrayed so well.
Sensuality is not cheap or easy. It is wealth and an inner richness a woman possessess.
It is not contrived-
It is mystery and intrigue in its finest.
Inner confidence that has nothing to do with materialism or the strive for perfection.
The modern day Geisha. That can hold a man’s gaze and make him weak. That can carry on any conversation with knowledge and wit. That has mastered world knowledge and the arts. Multi dimensional like a kaleidoscope.
And it comes from confidence of your whole nature. Knowing who you are and what you want.
Accepting yourself, the good and the not so good. Relying on more than the material for happiness and inner power or self assurance.
A woman, who when the lights go down, knows and loves herself all the more for it.