The Woman Code
Ladies, do we have a ‘Woman Code’? Would you give one of your fellow sisters a heads up if her mascara had smeared/thong was showing/she had food in her teeth? I think there’s a time, place and way to say everything. I’ve helped many a chick in a club bathroom while they’re dolling themselves up and don’t realise they have toilet paper stuck to their shoe. I can’t, in good conscience, let someone walk around like that.
I ask, because I could have used someone who adhered to ‘Woman Code’ this past weekend. I was out killing time before getting my hair cut and was wearing one of my favourite jackets, which is always a bit of a show stopper and makes me feel oh so purdy. I had taken a breather and was enjoying a hot chocolate in a cafe, when my hairdresser called and said he could move my appointment up by half an hour. I finished up my hot chocolate and figured I had just enough time to check out one more shop before heading to get my hair did.
I stepped out into the glorious sunshine, strutting through the streets like they’re my own personal catwalk, as I do. Many people were looking at me, checking out my fabulous jacket (I thought).
I get to the shop I wanted to check out and fought through crowds to try and get a good glimpse of some super cute dresses. When it became clear that I would have to body slam someone to be able to get my size in anything, I decided to go upstairs to check out the accessories. As I go up the escalators, I notice people on the down escalators checking me out once again. Damn, I think, this jacket has amazing pulling power.
I browse around for a few more minutes when I finally pass a mirror and realise why everyone had been looking at me. To my horror, my bright red lipstick had smeared all down my chin when I finished off that hot chocolate. My face rapidly turned the same colour as the lipstick as I hurriedly wiped it off.
The horror! Why had no one told me?! I saw plenty of girls around my age who could have pulled me aside, or older women, who I always assume have that kind of motherly instinct and will let you know. Well, apparently not. People were clearly quite happy to let me wander around looking like a cracked out clown.
I mean, this is so unlike me. I take an unusual amount of pride in my appearance and would normally never not have a quick check in my compact mirror after finishing a drink, but I was in a rush – we all have our moments, damnit!
Anyway, after the shame of that incident, I have vowed to always, no matter what the circumstances, tell a woman when something is a little off. She may punch me now, but she’ll thank me later. I encourage you all to do the same.
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Tags: embarrassing moments, women
