Today I had lunch with my friends the elegant astute B.B. and the oh so womanly Fanny. Fanny is the sort of woman that confounds and delight. She is also the sexiest person I’ve ever known. She is ripe with what ever it is that makes a person alluring. It’s in her carriage, her sent and her slow open smile. I marvel at her simple grace and told her so, which led us three to a conversation on what makes one feminine.
There was much talk of the youthful portrayal of the feminine ideal in our current society and B.B. scientific argument about the necessary weight of the masculine vs. the feminine but in the end none of us was really certain what it was or if it had much value in our society. Neither did we know how much femininity influenced female beauty and sexually.
I was brought up in a home of women who are physically bountiful and who relished in their femininity. I love the female form and see in it all the wonder of the world but I’ve never been able to understand if that love stemmed from my love of my nurturing environment or the soft pretty aesthetics.
If presse, I'd say femininity to me is my mother with her delicate perfume, smart silk blouse and red lip stain. She would never tolerate me or my sister crying in public or either of us relying too heavily on others so I suppose for me being femininity as always meant quiet strength and thoughtful grace.
All my love,