Woman-ness.

Darlene walked past my house today in full magnificence. She strutted with her/his head held high and spine straight wearing an African caftan in the brightest blues, greens and gold and a bright blue turban. A Tuesday afternoon stroll, I’m assuming she/he’s off to the club for a couple of mid-strength tinnies. An amazing outfit. I was super impressed, because it wasn’t an African influence, it wasn’t an accessory or item of clothing, it was the full kit and caboodle. This kind of effort is absolutely admirable, for the rest of we white women on the island, the heat has totally reduced our commitment to beauty and fashion.

First the eyeliner is dropped, then the lipgloss, then foundation I guess – am not quite there yet, still have the tinted sunscreen…we begin to have longer stints between hair removal and don’t bother doing our hair – just tie it back wet and ignore it. There is dirt under our nails constantly so we cut ‘em short and don’t bother with polish. We regress to our basic states while Darlene shines in transgender glory. She/he reminds us that to be a woman is something to be proud of, to not dissolve into androgeny, to not assume that living on a tropical island in the wet season should mean we lose our femininity. She’s got it going on and that is why we should curl our eyelashes and pluck our brows and pop on a glossy smile and get out of our Birkenstocks once in a while. Be a bit girly, revel in our curves and the fun of being female and put together an outfit. Make an effort and not take the joy of being a chick for granted. Because it’s not easy for just anyone to be a woman, Darlene has had to make some pretty difficult choices – on an island of indigenous, conservative people, the sister girls are not always accepted or respected. But she frocks up and struts her stuff and is proud to be leaning on the side of sisterhood.

She looks scary as shit but at least she took the time to do it.