On the ferry yesterday, my son and I were behind a young woman. While she walked up stairs, she was clearly uncomfortable in her very short-shorts. They were short enough that we could clearly see her lack of undergarments. Her discomfort manifested mainly by her continued pulling the edges of her shorts down. Ironically, that’s what gathered my attention, this continuous motion.
I felt bad for her discomfort. And I wonder, as I’m want to do, how we found ourselves here. Why was she compelled to wear clothes that pushed her comfort levels? Was she trying to be more attractive? Was it an unconscious choice, or conscious only to see the challenges of this fashion (and resultant discomfort) too late?
Of course, we live in as culture where women and girls are supposed to be sexy, but not too sexy. It’s a strange and painful duality.