Prologue ...

I had initially intended for the title of this post to read "Sexy Me ...". Partly out of my intrigue at how loosely the term is flung about here in the ME, and partly just to reflect on my own past and present perception of the word.

However, since I cannot successfully Google the word "sexy" from where I live, since I cannot even retrieve a definition off of Wikipedia ... I figured it might be best to temper the title.

Otherwise, no manner of engine search combination would lead my 3 faithful bloggers back to this post.

It's ironic, because I imagine that I have heard the word "sexy" used more times and more casually in my 6 + years in the ME than in my entire 36 years previous.

So the whole title change thingy has kind of thrown me for a loop, and I've kind of forgotten the initial flow this silly tale was supposed to follow.

No worries; that happens a lot.

I think I wanted to write about how every Mom out there deserves to feel sexy. Not all of the time, but at least some of the time.

Sexy in a good sense, not in a lewd and submissive way. More in the sense of recognizing something worth desiring, celebrating and enjoying in yourself.

Since I can't get writing this post out of my head, I'll wing it.

Here's wishing you a "Happy Mother's Day ... From Seductive Me to Seductive You".

So what in the world led me to this post ...

Well, I was just sitting here, checking out my nails on Mother's Day, and I was reminded of the Seinfeld episode where George discovers a potential career as a hand model.

I will never be a hand model; my fingers are far too crooked, my veins far too prominent, my skin far too aged. But I could be a nail model. Of that I am certain. I just don't know if there is a market for natural nails anymore.

I said to Smilin' Vic and Kiddo "Check out these nails, are they not gorgeous?"

Kiddo thought I was being vain. Smilin' Vic told her that Maman does have gorgeous nails and she never brags, so if she's vocalizing satisfaction about her nails, they must really be amazing.

He said every Maman should have something she truly finds desirable about herself. I liked him ... a lot ... when he said that.

Finding "sexy" in the oddest things and moments ...

I have always had good nails. I'm proud to show them. I don't have to work at them. I think they're appealing and neat and, in all frankness, just plain sexy.

In fairness, my hair can be sexy if I try hard enough, as can my eyes and my mouth, but these require a lot more work. I have to style, and drape, and paint and purse. It doesn't just come naturally. But my nails just are what they are, and that makes me feel sexy.

I don't think I ever felt sexy before the age of thirty. I tried to be sexy, I dressed sexy, but I never "felt" sexy.

The right clothes could make me feel sexy, but that's dependent on the right frame of mind. The same dress worn seductively one evening might feel frumpy the next, depending on whether I'm feeling carefree or bloated or stressed.

As I've gotten older, I've discovered a new sexy; the kind that comes from "being" and not from "trying to be".

You might think it's one thing and aspire to that, then realize that you got it all wrong. Through the years, I've realized that sexy is usually found in those things that come naturally to me, not the things I work at. It's the things I enjoy, not the things I aspire to.

Cooking makes me feel sexy. Not the actual "cooking" part, but the conceptualizing, creating, serving. Tasting. Pleasing.

Using my brain makes me feel sexy. Nothing is quite as sexy as a heated debate, perhaps aided by a potent glass of red. Breath comes quicker, pulse races, body tenses. There is something very sexy about contemplation and persuasion and strategy in discussion.

In my thirties, I started to run. Running definitely made me feel sexy. Sweating, struggling, overcoming, achieving = sexy.

In my mid-thirties, when Kiddo was a baby/toddler, nothing made me feel sexier than cradling a child on my hip. It was 'mom sexy'.

Listening to good music ... feels sexy.
Standing with tummy pulled in and back straight ... feels sexy.
Waking up in the morning and taking the time to really stretch in bed ... sexy.
Taking the time to use body scrub in the bath ... sexy.
Fresh breath ... sexy.
Caprese salad ... sexy.
Sweat pants that have actually made it to the gym ... sexy.
___________________________________ (this is YOUR bullet, left blank for YOU to fill in).

Epilogue

Without meaning to generalize (though obviously that's what I'm leading up to), there seems to be a tendency in Asian females in the ME to use the word 'sexy' a lot. It's used as a compliment, much in the way my North American friends would say "Looking good!" or "That dress looks great on you."

It always strikes me as so odd that I hear the term used several times daily in a part of the world that discourages the very suggestiveness conjured up by the word.

In fact, our maid often tells me I look 'sexy' (yeah, freaked me out a bit too the first time she said it in front of my then 4-year-old) if I'm going out and made up, dressed up and pumped up.

I appreciate the thought, but that's not sexy to me. I find 'sexy' at the weirdest moments, usually at those moments when I'm feeling totally comfortable with what I am and what I'm doing. It's not about the makeup or the clothes ... it's not about someone else's outside view of me ... it's really about a state of mind.

So I guess there's no point to this post really, other than rumination on a term that means different things to different people ... it's one of those things like 'love' ... really hard to define, really hard to put into words. But overall nice once you figure out what it means to you.

"Happy Mother's Day ... From Sexy Me to Sexy You".

P.S. The video below was added post-script. But it just goes to show ... listen to "Gangnam Style, Sexy Lady", minus the 'Sexy'!