There is something that you all should know about me: I am a child of the 80s.
I love neon.
I love legwarmers.
(I also love 80s-style film montages set to horrendous/wonderful 80s tunes. But more on that in a later post perhaps…)
During my expat years in Paris, I couldn’t exactly indulge this side of my personality, since it is harder to get away with being and looking like a complete 80s dork in a culture that has been inculcating their spawn with the hipster-chic aesthetic from the womb long before Williamsburg started doing it.
But now that I am back in America, I am going full-steam ahead with my dorkitude. I am in my home country now, and I am also old enough to have the confidence and the fuck-it attitude to indulge all my outré tendencies again.
Let’s face it, we all know that the 80s were awesome. Horrible. But awesome. You all secretly love it; don’t you dare try to pretend that you don’t.
Granted, there is a time and a place for 80s dorkitude. Themed parties, of course. The privacy of your own home. And, in my case, my rock climbing life.
I know that some of you ladies, possibly even most of you, view the climbing scene as a great way to meet men.
I will not argue with you.
I am proud to say that I have met some of the best people of my life at the climbing gym, and I say that without any cynicism. (Yes, long-time readers, believe it. NO CYNICISM.)
And how did I meet them?
I have my legwarmers to thank for that.
Yes, that’s right, ladies, peacocking works. Why should that be the exclusive domain of the male members of our species?
Don’t misread me. I’m not saying that I initially started dorking it up at the gym in order to meet people. (I actually just like having an outlet for dressing like a 80s weirdo.) Nor am I saying that you should all start wearing neon legwarmers.
But what I am saying is that wearing something a wee bit noticeable is a good icebreaker and a good way for people, male or female, to strike up random conversations with you without feeling or being creepy.
In my case, I grew to be recognizable “Legwarmers Girl” at the climbing gym, and that’s how I began to make new friends: by chatting about my blatant love of neon and garish legwear. I also firmly believe that it makes me absolutely non-threatening as potential competition for the ladies at the gym who actually want to attract a mate. (I do look ridiculously unsexy, trust me.)
Because you don’t want to be “that girl”. Ultimately, I’d like to think that looking like an idiot makes you the most formidable man-magnet around. But secretly. Subversively. Stealthily.
LIKE A NINJA.
I’m absolute crap at advice, mostly because my own life is a complete shitshow, but allow me to opine for a moment here.
I believe that what you put out there is what you shall receive.
I am neon, inside and out.
And I believe that any potential partner-in-crime would be attracted to me both because of and in spite of my hideous legwarmers.
Therefore I encourage you ladies to express yourself through your clothing choices, exaggeratedly so, if possible. Really. It sounds cliché, but I mean it. It works. It will bring you good fortune, good friends, and ultimately, potential “special friends”, as my mother says.
It’s a cutthroat meat market out there, and, let’s face it, in this virtual age, in which we are all overwhelmed by choice, it’s all about the marketing — the packaging, if you will. So get your game on, ladies. Look good. FEEL good.
And some saucy lingerie couldn’t hurt either.
You know what to do.
Go forth and man-shop, ladies.