Some things annoy me very much, and one of them is when people pull up my stole when it has slipped a little showing a bit of cleavage. Also those who tug at the neckline of my dress for revealing the bra strap.
Frankly I don’t remember ever appointing anyone to cover me up in case I ‘reveal’ anything by accident. No, scratch that. I know positively that I have never ever appointed anyone to the post of Guardian of Modesty.
I mean, look at it this way. Not their cleavage, not their bra strap. And what if my intention had been to show a bit of cleavage and also the pretty bra strap? And yet there they are, these self-styled protectors of MY modesty, ever ready to assist me to cover up, women ever ready to pull up slipping stoles not to mention discreetly tugging at necklines of dresses if they so much as revealed a fraction of a millimetre of my bra strap.
All this makes me wonder about people such as them and their pathetic life, and their possible ‘hobbies’. Is it mere chance that they happen to be around to pounce on me the moment anything slips? Or are they in the habit of continuously scanning the crowds looking for revealed cleavages and bra straps and then jump into action as a favour?
I have the sinister feeling that among my acquaintances at least one is solely fixated on me and my modesty. I walked into her home the other day and as soon as I stepped in through the door they asked me very solicitously, ‘What’s that?’
What’s what? Their eyes were fixed on the area around my neck and I was alarmed. You all know how terrified I am of creepy-crawlies. Not the ones who stay in their own territory, only those who invade my personal space with no sense of privacy, much like the nosy parkers who want to pull up the stoles and tug at necklines.
Meanwhile I tried desperately to swat away whatever it was was on my shoulder or neck or wherever, all the time going, ‘Where? What? Where is it? What is it?’ in fearful tones. Just then they very calmly leaned forward and pulled at the neckline of my top covering the fraction of a millimetre of my bra strap that was showing.
What the heck!
Livid, I wanted to push the hand away, along with its owner. I didn’t though because society frowns upon people who push defenceless older women down. Yes, even if they have just invaded your personal space without permission.
So I gnashed my teeth instead inwardly. (At this point my teeth to me, “What did we ever do for you to punish us so?”) But along with the annoyance at the encroachment of hands on my person was also relief at finding no denizen of the insect world was using my body as their playground/stage. That relief I felt was what saved them that day.
The next time things may not pan out so well for those who have taken it upon themselves to safeguard my modesty. The moment of explosion is not far off. The annoyance that’s been building up over the years at this uncalled for intrusion into my private space is now at a tipping point. I almost feel sorry for whoever is next in line to tug at my neckline.
© Shail Mohan 2022
This is my last post for #septembermusings. Yay! I am so glad I could write on all days. Thank you for reading and commenting. You know who you are 🙂