grlfriendwanted
Canton, OH
age: 54
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[Commentary] [Cyprus] Why men should dress up as women sometimes
Posted by: "Stephanie Stevens" stephaniekaystevens@[blocked]
Mon Mar 24, 2008 5:48 am (PDT)
Cyprus Mail, Cyprus
[3/24/08]
Why men should dress up as women sometimes
By Stefanos Evripidou
THERE IS a common perception that Cypriot men love to dress up as
women when given half the chance. Come carnival month, rather than
take on the persona of a nutty Cuban exile who walks around calling
everyone an "effing cokaroach", most men prefer to roll up the nylon
stockings, slip into a mini and hit the town with clicking heels.
So what is it that makes us so eager to don a wig and lipstick? It's
not as if Cyprus has many cross-dressers during the rest of the year.
Given our propensity to grow hair and scratch genitalia, it doesn't
take a CSI detective to figure out when the Christina you've been
talking to all night is actually a Christos. In comparison, drinking
in the late night bars of Thailand or Malaysia can be a much more
hazardous exercise.
And yet, every February or March, while the drumbeat of Brazilian
samba plays out in hot and sweaty Rio, my Nicosia friends and
colleagues are either knocking back cosmopolitans in a convincing
French maid's outfit or getting their peroxide wig caught up in a
g-string pulled over their love handles.
I know people have their own ideas about Mediterranean boys being
overindulged by their mothers. Proponents of that line of thinking
argue that men jump at the chance to cross-dress as a way of dealing
with the lack of pampering in their adult lives. Dressing as a woman
brings them closer to the most important figure in their childhood,
while at the same time giving them a rebellious edge; mama never would
have gone out in six-inch stilettos and fish-net stockings. But this
theory is a load of cod's spawn. Only the Grim Reaper can stop a
mother from mollycoddling her child who now wears a suit and tie and
manages one of the largest banks on the island.
I have a hunch, and bear with me here because it's just come in, that
men jump at the chance to play the opposite sex because the female
gender remains such an elusive enigma to them. Men think that by
wearing tights, struggling with heels and exposing a little leg and
chest they can understand better how the other half of the planet
thinks. It is a genuine and admirable effort to walk in the shoes of
our better half. Where do the hours go on a Saturday night before
leaving the house? How does it feel to have the glare of others
directed at you and to actually notice? What's it like to see
half-exposed men standing behind trees in the D'Avilla moat as you
park? And more generally, what's it like to be aware?
Make no mistake, this effort in gender-crossing is not selfless. Sure
we care how women feel, but we're more interested in finding out what
it is exactly they want. Again, the motives are not altruistic. These
men that struggle with suspenders on a carnival weekend are not doing
it out of empathy, what they are really doing is searching for that
peaceful plateau in their lives, their own Shangri-La. And the best
way to reach that utopian mountaintop is not through a policy of shock
and awe. The more you shock women the more in awe you'll be at how
long they can remember it. No, it is a battle of hearts and minds.
Given that science and technology have not reached a level sufficient
to unlock the female mind, we must stick to winning hearts. Again,
this is no easy feat. But you start from where everything must start,
greater understanding.
If you call a female friend one evening at around 6pm and say, "Fancy
going to the cinema?", show understanding when they refuse because
they don't have enough time to prepare. Even when you offer to go to
the 10pm screening instead, don't get angry when they reply: "That's
the one I thought you meant. Why do you always wait until last-minute?
Probably cos I was your last choice." Smile, breathe in and out as you
normally do to survive, and apologise for your lack of foresight.
If a close friend calls you to complain about something that you've
done. Listen, breathe as you normally would, and don't try to
understand what she's talking about but focus on what she needs. I
have a lot of cheek giving out advice here, and I recognise that, but
there are certain experiences that even the most useless person can
learn from.
I have toiled and troubled in the past over criticism directed at me
by the opposite sex. I've spent days thinking what exactly did I do
wrong? How could I have avoided it? What should have I avoided? What
are we even talking about?
When you are sitting in a class on quantum mechanics, as you do, and
you don't understand what the lecturer is saying, you tend to just
take it for granted that they are right. And this is what I did. I
woke up the next day, realising the error of my ways and apologised
profusely for my crazy, unintentional, completely out of character
actions. Two days later I was told: "I just got my period, so that's
probably why I was a bit ratty the other day."
Don't even try to comment. Don't think. You will open up a Pandora's
Box. Does this mean that I didn't do anything wrong and was falsely
persecuted? Or that I did make a mistake but it was blown out of
proportion? Or that I was highly culpable but that my accuser would
normally have had the grace not to even deal with a rat like me?
It doesn't really matter. Humans are not made of words but emotions.
And in all honesty, putting on a pair of tights doesn't really help to
understand the emotional perplexity of women, but it is fun. Now, I've
got to run before the shops close. I saw a lovely pair of fuscia
gloves that will go great with my peac*ck hat. It's for next year of
course, but, you know, they might not be there by next year...
Copyright (c) Cyprus Mail 2008
http://www.cyprus-mail.com/news/main.php?id=38283&cat_id=1
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