I pulled out a pair of old jeans today. Old meaning, once upon a time, I wore them. They weren’t fat pants, certainly weren’t my “holy shit, they fit!” pants. Just an in-between pair, that I remember buying intending for them to be my comfortable jeans. They were loose enough that they didn’t push fat up when I walked or sat. I could simply tuck a roll in, and no one would notice. Well, says me. What I loved about these jeans was my ability to wear a clingy white shirt with them. I had a white shirt, worn thin and semi-opaque. My nipples sometimes became taut beneath the shirt, and from a certain angle, they looked lavender. And that, to me, was about as sexy as it got.
It wasn’t about my leather pants, garter belts, or stockings. It was about a white tee or tank, no bra, loose comfortable, faded jeans, and a navy blazer. Sexy isn’t all about attitude. I hear that shit a lot. “It’s a state of mind” just ain’t gonna cut it all the time. Yes, confidence is hot. It just is. But if you want to look hot without having to open your mouth, lose the bra and learn to make fierce eye contact. I know what you’re thinking. Whore. But, really, it won’t kill your breast tissue to go sans bra for a night.
I did it on an airplane. Wore that thin white top, jeans, blazer folded and stowed away. No makeup. Hair in a bun. And I felt sexy and powerful. Sure, there were two teenage boys, who needed napkins to wipe up the pool of drool beneath them. I wasn’t doing it for them, or even for the attention. I did it because it made me feel sexy. Some women take baths and listen to Sade. They light candles around the house. These women have cats. Yes, I went there. To the cat-lady place. Sorry. But it’s true. Go out without undergarments. Not a la Lindsay. Wear jeans. You will act differently.
Already, I know you’re singing that “Do your ears hang low?” song, replacing “ears” with “breasts,” “boobs,” “tits,” “groceries,” or some version of your own. Please. Who cares?! Wear ’em. They’re called “knockers” for a reason. They can make you feel like a knockout… and as my sister would say, “Or you could knock out an eye with one of mine!” Fine, then go spritz yourself with the new Marc Jacob’s Daisy Perfume… it is sexy, and simple. The thing women get wrong about sexy: they think it’s complicated and expensive. Hooks, zippers, padding, silicone, chicken cutlet inserts, slits, toe cleavage. What’s sexy is what’s accessible. I’ve said it before: It’s not about cleavage if you’re in a corset with strings that looks complicated to get at the good bits. That’s work. It’s about accessible and touchable. And when a guy sees you in a wife beater, he feels as though he’s being let into your world. He’s in a zone, behind a curtain, and he likes it.
Try it. Go out, leave the house, sans bra. Casual, like really, you’re just that comfortable with your body. And touch yourself a little. I’m totally serious. I’m saying this because I get too many emails asking if I know anyone to set them up with. Go to some bar, order a non-pink drink, no bra, tee shirt, and kind of glide your hands over your breasts. No, it’s not the “bend and snap,” but it works. And for the record, the truth is, it’s really not about snagging the guy. It’s about building your own confidence and learning to feel sexy, no makeup, undone, and alone. It’s something every woman should know how to give herself, aside from an orgasm. Know how to make yourself feel sexy and powerful, like you’re capable of getting anyone to conform to your wishes. I suppose it’s different for everyone. Those subtle things we can do to amp ourselves into a state of invincible intoxication… how do you do it? Hair blown out? Knee socks and a short skirt, your hair pulled into two school girl braids? What does your inner sexy look like?