Fragile Feminine Beauty

Men can afford to walk around looking rough-edged without the least qualm of conscience. Compared to them, the ladies are a delicate lot. If the feminist movement is doing all it can to eradicate the idea of inequality, the fashion industry is undoing their small steps with giant backward leaps. This insight came to me suddenly, as I beheld a well-dressed lady. Her dress was as colorful and as beautiful as the petals of a flower. Her hair was well made, she carried herself with pride and dignity, as if conscious that she was decorating the place by her mere presence.

I concluded that it takes a lot of work to keep a lady looking presentable. Let us not enter into the touchy politics of adornments, enhancements, struts, props, and weaves. Those fit into a much larger picture than just outward appearances - a real-world, wordless parable which conveys "handle with care". Think about it. If women were to expose themselves to the elements as recklessly as men do, they would be worse for wear and it would show. Their beauty is paired with fragility. I'm not saying there are no women boxing or pulling handcarts, neither am I defending lazy diva behaviors. Moderation is the answer.

I have a small sister; our youngest sibling. In her energetic childhood days my brother and I forged her into a tomboy, taking her to soccer games, high-speed bicycle-riding daredevilry, hard-sprinting chasing games and all. We always ensured she was on our team; she dribbled confidently between boys and scored goals freely, she was our pride and joy. Several times she ventured to confront bullies twice her age, the lucky ones got away with harsh verbal reprimands, one endured the awkward misfortune of being attacked by a little girl. Such a vigorous childhood wasn't always easy on her, since all those neighborhood football games were played on tarmac roads, so that a fall meant the flesh of the elbows and knees earned a bloody mincing. She got quite fast, tough and strong as a result. I was certain that she was fittin' to become the next Marion Jones.

Now little sister is not so small anymore. She has slowed down and parted ways with the tomboy in her - by and large. Wants nothing to do with exercise. Though occasionally one will hear her telling enamored boys "Nitakupiga!" Otherwise, she is coming of age with beauty and refinement. Plus fragility.

The point? Youth fades away, but while it lasts, it is beautiful. Our days of vitality are a blessing which deserve to be made the best use of - not with that YOLO foolishness.