Magickman
04-06-2008, 11:37 AM
I took my new skort out dancing last night. Dark blue denim, with floral embroidery on the left side. It was a singles night, live rock'n'roll event, at a suburban veterans hall.
I was primed and ready. Black turtleneck, the skort, black tights, and Nine West sexy 4" stiletto oxford shoes. Fresh fuschia manicure, too.
No sooner than entering the hall, women were asking me to dance.
"OH, you're wearing a skirt." No, I replied, this is a skort. And so on.
This is sort of funny, because it would be hard to imagine a more middle American and conventional group. Everyone was cool, though, except one idiot who maybe had too much to drink. He insisted on asking which bathroom I used. I told him, "Don't f*ck with me, dude." and repeated myself, so he could be sure to understand.
The women were cool about it. They don't care. I danced with about a half dozen of them. Lots of spinning and twirling. One gal said it was like a carnival ride. The women seem to tire so easily. I was only getting warmed up.
Anyway, it was dancing until closing time. Good fun, all evening.
After the music was finished, I was talking with one of the band members. He said that their female vocalist was watching me all evening, and just had to know where I got my shoes. So I told him.
Fast dancing in tall stilettos, is a bit of a balancing act. I had to pay attention, in order to maintain upright orientation. But no missteps.
There is a small moral to this story. Even in a midwestern veterans club, a bastion of middle class conformity, it is entirely possible to fully express personal style through attire, footwear, and accessories.
All it takes is positive attitude and a friendly smile, coupled with the determination not to take any crap from anyone.
For those who are still without courage, take heart, because social male skirting is really pretty painless, and a lot of fun, besides.
I was primed and ready. Black turtleneck, the skort, black tights, and Nine West sexy 4" stiletto oxford shoes. Fresh fuschia manicure, too.
No sooner than entering the hall, women were asking me to dance.
"OH, you're wearing a skirt." No, I replied, this is a skort. And so on.
This is sort of funny, because it would be hard to imagine a more middle American and conventional group. Everyone was cool, though, except one idiot who maybe had too much to drink. He insisted on asking which bathroom I used. I told him, "Don't f*ck with me, dude." and repeated myself, so he could be sure to understand.
The women were cool about it. They don't care. I danced with about a half dozen of them. Lots of spinning and twirling. One gal said it was like a carnival ride. The women seem to tire so easily. I was only getting warmed up.
Anyway, it was dancing until closing time. Good fun, all evening.
After the music was finished, I was talking with one of the band members. He said that their female vocalist was watching me all evening, and just had to know where I got my shoes. So I told him.
Fast dancing in tall stilettos, is a bit of a balancing act. I had to pay attention, in order to maintain upright orientation. But no missteps.
There is a small moral to this story. Even in a midwestern veterans club, a bastion of middle class conformity, it is entirely possible to fully express personal style through attire, footwear, and accessories.
All it takes is positive attitude and a friendly smile, coupled with the determination not to take any crap from anyone.
For those who are still without courage, take heart, because social male skirting is really pretty painless, and a lot of fun, besides.