The perfect womanI have been confused about what I should be writing about over the past few days but the only idea that has been floating around up in the thinking box is the idea of the ‘perfect women’. Not the aesthetics but more her behaviour and her mannerism.  What makes a perfect woman?

Every time I sit at this table to get on with a bit of work, I tend to ask myself to sit up straight. I know I look childish all slouchy and bent over, so my day tends to go by with me grunting and moaning about not sitting up straight. I’m normally the scatted kind of girl that swings on swingy chair, all lent back with legs swinging. Let’s not forget that my mind is hazy most of the time too. We’ll call it daydreaming for today. ‘Work?? Someone say work??’ is my attitude to a busy day. Do get me wrong I work, but I can’t say I’ve been very alert over the past last couple of months.

So, the more I got to think the ultimate lady, the elegant woman, the perfect girl and new age ‘she-ra’, I realised that in a city like Istanbul it is difficult not to consider your feminine side. Though it is too much for me sometimes (especially in the mornings), I do tend want to stop being such a scatter brain, with un-ironed cloths and crap nail varnish but after about two months in this country, having seen these women, I felt like a 25 year old school child. So I polished myself a little, even though I still dress like a [good looking and stylish] school teacher, I no longer look ‘scattered’, it looks more like a style I’ve made up rather than just plain ‘scattered’.

So, back to mannerism,  and its ideal female form, I figured that this [ideal] women is made up of everything I want to be and more importantly am not. I have written up little bits about her and every time I seem to go back to read it, I sort of do the female version of Homer Simpson with the ‘Doh!!’ My head bent down low with shame of course.

Realistically I know I have been wanting to change some of my mannerisms, some I have wanted to change for years, some only a few months, some even a few days but what I seem to be struggling with is the fact I need to draw (write) out this woman for a more clarity. It’s proved to be more difficult than I imagined, I’m having to take serious notes and even had to a brain storm on the idea.

Having to make these changes means putting time and effort into it, adopting and changing habits, remaking and remoulding your stand and body posture and controlling your mind.

If ever she happened to be though, in whatever colour, race, a style she is, she would, with all her class and beauty be a fearsome thing to behold.

ImageAll right, here ‘She’ is.

She walks like she owns the street. Tall with her back straight. She doesn’t crouch or look down at her feet. Her core is balanced. Her mind is made up.

She glides. When she talks she is direct. When she sits she is smooth, uncreased. She crosses her legs and keeps her back straight. She’s turns with her shoulders first and then gently swings her head around. Her neck is kept stretched.

When she cries she shivers never wails. She is always composed as if always at her best.

Calm and serenity are her good friends. She never itches and scratches like a man nor does she fidget and fiddle and she never laughs uncontrollably, she maintains her serene and calm self.

The same confidence will compose her way of thinking, her mind is never in doubt and never judgemental. Her thoughts glide like the bow of a violin. She is never accusative or never stern yet sure and independent.

She needs to be trustworthy of people because she firstly trusts herself…


About An Addled Moment

I came to Istanbul to discover not only this beautiful city and its nightlife but I’m also here to discover me.
This entry was posted in Being a Woman, Being Turkish, Istanbul, My Imagination and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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