DOUBLE STANDARDS

People partying
Image from insidenairobi.xemzi.com

Every time I read about the comments men make about how women dress for a night out I feel judgement oozing through the words. They talk about red lipstick and short figure hugging outfits complete with high heels and for some reason as you read those comments you feel the need to ask so what about it?

It's not what you say but how you say it and I can't describe to you how they say it. I just know that I don't like it. With one breathe, glance he will be complimenting you and insult you. Their faces tell stories of pleasure and disgust and I am tempted to slap the hypocrisy out their genetic make-up.

Have you ever worn those figure-hugging outfits on your way out late at night? Clearly am taking about the women but if you are a guy and you have...the thought shocks me so much that I don't have a clever statement to complete that dis. Anyway if you have perhaps you will identify. The song 'Chokoza' by Avril and Marya rings in your head. As you slip into that little outfit, you feel psyched because you know that you will get a lot of attention in that little number plus you think you look good so you feel good. In the comforts of your home or of that of your friends you become ignorant of the icy breeze that awaits you the minute you step out. The red lipstick is because it pops. I mean it's one of those nights out, you aren't supposed to be subtle in your demand for attention so red it is, or purple or pink. The heels compliment the dress and even though you know at the back of your mind that you will struggle and trip and possibly fall and it won't be a pretty sight, you think of the models and actresses and how they wouldn't wear that dress with those flats. There, you have reasoned your way into those heals or so you think you did...reason, I mean.

You are set. Out into the world you go, walking, stumbling your hyper-self into the club as you constantly adjust your dress pulling it up to cover the cleavage a bit and down to cover the thighs a bit. And, in case you are wondering, at the back of your mind you did feel that dress was a size not yours. But, you shrugged it off. A part of you lied to you that you could handle it, so relax it's not your fault.

They look, ooh they look as you pass-by. The men that is, looking at you as you strut your stuff across the floor oblivious to the meticulous calculations that designed that walk and your constant fears of tripping and falling that haunt the back of your mind. Both of you love the feeling...of his gaze on you. But, you can pretend you don't, because I know the truth so am telling you, not asking.

You should know, ladies that he likes what he sees. He likes your public disregard of decency, he likes the raunchy thoughts that are running through his mind this night under the witness of the moon and those comments and glances are of pleasure but come tomorrow morning, under the judging sun these feelings will be overtaken by guilt and overbearing sense of morality. Disgust comes in the morning, hand in hand with the double standards. Nkt.