I’m Not an Angry Black Woman. I’m Human

 “Cancel your date. You’re not going to like him anyway. You’re not ready yet and that’s ok. You’re angry,” said one of my guy friends recently as he enquired about my weekend plans. I laughed off his assessment but his words stuck with me. Did I really come across as the proverbial “angry black woman”?  I had strong opinions about dating, sex and relationships that I often share on this blog; and never think twice about “mouthing off” on Facebook about the shortcomings of the men I meet, but I never considered myself to be angry. Was brutal honesty, clarity and yes even a little frustration from a female about what she desired so unexpected, that the only way a man could bring himself to understand it was to label any woman acting in this manner, angry?

There is a distinct difference between existing in a constant state of anger, and being angered by specific acts. As a single woman why am I expected to be amiable at all times, showing little to no displeasure about being treated as little more than a sex object. Like Litsa Dremousis author of the article “I’m Mad at You Because You’re an Idiot, Not Because I’m a Woman”, I wondered if men were “so conditioned by notions of women as the gentler sex they didn’t understand that I wouldn’t put up with their crap,” anyone’s crap for that matter.

Is a little anger not justified when the guy you were dating breaks things off and goes off the grid; only to show up a month later offering to be your friend with benefits with a text saying, “I’ll get you off whenever you want.” Clearly all those deep conversations you had about relationships went over his head, as if you needed another reminder that some men will say and do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to get the “nookie.”

What about if a passing acquaintance whose advances you’ve rejected in the past traps you in a bear hug, and proceeds to plant kisses all over your face while he runs his hands over your body. Is the appropriate response to these acts a polite smile and shy giggle before issuing a “cease and desist” request? I really wonder what my male readers think is the ideal response to circumstances like these.

All men are not guilty of these things but some are, so you can wipe the shocked expression of your face now. Asking a woman to stay silent about her negative experiences with the opposite sex would do little to lessen her anger. Neither would it guarantee that she would never take out the anger she was feeling about a guy or situation on you. The latter of course is not ideal; but life isn’t ideal, emotions can be messy and neither sex is immune from taking out the pain of a previous experience on someone else.

Dremousis is right to insist, “Legitimate female anger isn’t the hallmark of a bitch, cunt, ballbuster, or drama queen… women are multi-faceted humans with a full range of ambitions and emotional needs.”

It should go without saying but to be sure that we’re on the same page, any attempt to reduce me and I’m sure there’s a few women out there who are with me on this, to a perfectly made up, one-dimensional image of grace, poise and charm will be forcefully shut down. If a man takes issue with this, and or finds it remotely intimidating we probably shouldn’t be friends or dating anyway. I’m just saying…. *Kanye Shrug*

Proof that girls don’t run the world? – Socialization/Love; why do women wear 3+ inch heels

I love heels. In fact I’m really excited for the five-inch Colin Stuart pumps shown in the picture on the left to arrive in the mail.  Any fashionista, and I am by no means one, will tell you that shoes can make or break an outfit.  That said I think women wear sky-high heels primarily to compete with each other, and because men like women in heels.

Personally I love the reaction I get from men, and the envious glances I receive from my female peers when I’m stepping in some four-inch ‘puppies.’  When I asked my friends if they thought that women wore heels because they loved them; or to compete with each other, and better attract men I received a range of responses.

A female co-worker surmised that a “love of heels” is bred into most women at a fairly young age, and joked that  “to heel or not to heel” was very much “socialization by shoe type;” that high “heels equal awareness, posture and gives other people an impression of you.” Maybe there is an unspoken social convention, which presumes that sophisticated, classy ladies know how to wear and walk in heels, but tomboy’s and less accomplished women don’t.  Suri Cruise, the five year-old daughter of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes reportedly has a shoe collection that’s worth $150,000, and includes several shoes with little heels. I’m not too sure that I want my five-year-old wearing heels, but that is another discussion altogether.

Frankly the higher the heel, the slower you have to “step” because there is no graceful way to walk hurriedly in four-inch ‘puppies’ unless you want to risk breaking your ass, and frankly wiping out ain’t cute.  An older male colleague who is already married suggested that women used heels as a confidence booster, and that men sometimes thought, “damn she looks good; or damn she just looks ridiculous.” Clearly there is also a presumed difference between dressing up, and dressing appropriately for the occasion.

I wasn’t surprised when one of my closest Trini guy friends insisted that men love to see women in heels because it “lifts the booty.” A tall girlfriend in suggesting that competition and or men wasn’t the reason I and most other women wore our heels asked, “wouldn’t you wear heels on a girls’ night or to a wedding or at times when you’re not planning on being checked out,” before admitting that she only wore “heels with dresses for weddings and or fancy nights.”

The Trini guy I mentioned earlier quickly responded with this question: “A time when a woman isn’t planning to be checked out?? Really now???”  I found myself agreeing with him because I’m only 5 ft. 4.5 inches and I think tall people always get noticed first, but I digress. Another girlfriend joked, “Clearly something is wrong with me, because I’ll rock slippers in the club normal. My booty and legs can do bad all by themselves.”

They most certainly wouldn’t at some clubs in New York, but that’s another story. One of the more thoughtful male responses I received suggested that the shoe situation with women was “a female pecking-order thing that is worse, not better, when men are absent, and isn’t necessarily taught. This is not to exonerate male-gaze contributions, but to note that things are more tangled and indirect than we sometimes think.”

A self-professed feminist countered by saying that “heels look great. They really do but it’s so oppressive. Women can’t dance at parties; their toes are all banged up…beauty culture is learned. Who wakes up and decides to walk in stilts, put a plate in their lip, and powder on their face and neck?”

She has a point, and admittedly there are very few occasions when I don’t feel as if members of the opposite sex are checking me out. Further I am well aware of how critical women can be of each other, and our fashion choices. I have distinct memories of being constantly chided by my mother and her youngest sister about my fashion choices during my “tom-boy” years growing up; because one never knew who you would run into that day, and first impressions counted more than anything else.

Nowadays my fashionista girlfriends keep me in check by threatening to disown me when they think I’m about to make a fashion mistake; and my mother considers my transformation from awkward tomboy, to confident young woman who can walk in skyscraper heels one of her greatest parenting achievements. It also doesn’t hurt that I have a minimum amount of fashion sense about the colors, and styles that work best for my figure.

Heels however just aren’t all that good for your health. Ask any woman whose twisted her ankle because she misjudged the distance between steps; or me when I’m rolling out the knots in my calves and thighs after a 5 mile run, and a night out on the town.  It is only my self-confidence, love of running, previous ankle injuries, and the fear of doing serious and permanent damage to myself that tempers my shoe addiction. Flats do nothing for my feet. There is also no such thing as fashionable comfort shoes because stores like Aerosoles don’t market to women below the age of thirty-five, and let’s not even talk about orthopaedics because they just scream I’m not sexy.

It’s against human nature and socialization to do something if there’s isn’t some kind of social payout involved.  A shoe can be a gorgeous creation but when I say I love my heels, its more about loving the way they make my legs look, and the reaction I’ll get when I pair them with shorts, leggings and or a cute dress. My older cousin actually calls me a “Jane-boy” because although I prefer reading, watching football (soccer for my Americans) and or working out to shopping, I have a growing collection of “come fuck me” heels and I don’t look like a “tom-boy” when I bother to get dressed up.

It may very well be a combination of factors that influences any woman’s decision to wear heels, but inevitably what wins out will be a matter of personal preference and upbringing. Some women embrace socialization so much that you’ll hardly find them wearing flats. Others reject socialization and choose strictly comfort whether or not they have ample physical assets to do the talking for them, and then there’s me. Ladies what kind of woman are you; and gents do you prefer your women to be heeled or not?