Blokes...
Another email...
1) No, I'm not surprised you didn't approach her. 2) You should do. Why be a slave to my expectations all your life? 3) Having said that, speaking to random girls in arches under railways when still slightly drunk can lead to embarrassing chats with police officers. Or big brothers. Or pimps. 4) So maybe you were right to stay quiet. 5) And this is the important bit. Nobody ever tells blokes they look beautiful. Cute, yes. Sweet, yes. Good looking, yes. But only David Beckham gets told he is beautiful, largely because he is in fact beautiful. The last time anyone told me I was beautiful I was eight. Months, that is.
Anyone care to disagree?
1) No, I'm not surprised you didn't approach her. 2) You should do. Why be a slave to my expectations all your life? 3) Having said that, speaking to random girls in arches under railways when still slightly drunk can lead to embarrassing chats with police officers. Or big brothers. Or pimps. 4) So maybe you were right to stay quiet. 5) And this is the important bit. Nobody ever tells blokes they look beautiful. Cute, yes. Sweet, yes. Good looking, yes. But only David Beckham gets told he is beautiful, largely because he is in fact beautiful. The last time anyone told me I was beautiful I was eight. Months, that is.
Anyone care to disagree?
posted by Tom at 3:03 PM
3 Comments:
yes.
I had dinner with my Mum and two of my oldest friends a few months ago. One of my mates had brought her new Italian boyfriend along. They make the most beautiful couple. They're both stunning, dark haired, long lashed, beauties. I was filled with the greenest envy that night. I felt awful. So unexotic and uggly and self conscious and painfully single.
The next morning my Mum said she had been watching me across the table and that I had been looking particularly beautiful. I just burst into tears!
The time I've come closest to actually hearing the compliment was with an ex boy. Summer loving. A night skinny dipping in a beautiful lake. Sky full of stars. All very Dawsons Creek. All sounds vomit worthy I'm sure, but it was a very special night, one of those magical times that you can't quite believe is actually happening to you. He asked me if I knew I was beautiful. I nearly let myself believe that night that I was.
Nearly...
I once got incredibly brave and told one of my brothers very beautiful friends (yes, blokes can be beautiful too) that he was indeed beautiful and that I liked him very much. (It took me about half an hour of talking myself into this in the loo before I plucked up the courage).
He kissed me on the sofa.
He tasted of marmite.
Maybe beauty is best admired from afar.....
This is partly my response to the author of "blokes", and partly just my story.To clarify things, im a girl...
To start with I wanted to say that I think this project is really interesting, partly because the word "beautiful" is so interesting, similar to the word "love" in its subjectiveness. Apart from in the extreme cases of supermodels and, of course, David Beckham, it generally displays itself as the overflow of strong feeling, which has to be expressed. Other than people, what things do we describe as beautiful?: the breath-catching sight of an awesome mountain range with the setting sun behind it; a moving act of kindness; a mother's love for her child...impressive, perfect things, things which just feel right. When you say somebody is beautiful, and you really mean it, it means something strong. Thats why this project isnt called "the last time someone said you were fit". My 2 short stories might contribute to this point.
In the first story, I was away on holiday and I met this Spanish guy who spoke no english. I wasn't interested but he liked me, and on the last night he came up to me, having clearly made the effort to learn a bit of English for my sake, and declared "You..are...beautiful!!!!BEAUTIFUL!!!", with his most appealing face on. It was very nice, but it meant nothing at all..he didn't know what a strong word it was, he was just translating from Spanish, and had no idea of the connotations. From a fluent English speaker it would mean so much more to me..also I guess from someone who wasnt wearing such alarmingly tight trousers..Anyway, moving onto the next story...
This is for you, author of "blokes". I have only ever been in love once, and I told this guy he was beautiful. I told him plenty of times. However, he always just looked uncomfortable and I could tell he didn't believe me and couldnt see himself through my eyes, because he didn't have a great opinion of himself, and I guess other people who saw him would say he was ok-looking, but nothing to write home about. However, sometimes I looked at him and I just couldn't believe how beautiful he was, my heart was overflowing and I just had to tell him. He on the other hand called me lots of sweet things but only told me I was beautiful when he was splitting up with me, as in "you're a really beautiful girl, and I care so much for you, BUT...". That girl was right, Tom, this can be a sad project!
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