We Cougars Love Animal Print
This is a Michael Kors dress that I recently found on Ebay. I was overjoyed to find it, as I remember seeing it in the stores ages ago (at least 7-10 years maybe?) and being drawn to it, but thinking at the time that it might just be a bit too much. Bright orange, tiered, zebra-striped. Too much!? Ah, the folly of youth.
Continuing with the animal print theme established last week, I am reminded of the time I was on vacation in Mexico with my husband. We were staying at one of these adults-only resorts (and you can get your minds of the gutter...not one of those kinds of places....just a resort with no kids). It was a lovely place, and about halfway through the week a group of late twenty-something (?) friends arrived at the pool, shattering the serenity of the environment with their spring break-like approach to vacationing. It was apparent that although these were not college students, they had not yet successfully made the full transition to adulthood that gives one the capacity to read one's environment. They were an interesting mix of midwestern friendliness mixed with frat party obnoxiousness, and upon chatting at the pool bar one day, one of the women in the group took great interest in my husband's Scottish accent and wanted to know how we ended up together.
A barrage of overly-personal questions followed (considering we had only been talking for two minutes and didn't even know each other's names), and it was pretty clear to us that this woman was trying to figure out if I was a kept woman or not. You could practically see the thought bubble over her head. In her romanticised version of Scotland, the one from the Harlequin romances that must have made up a great deal of her formative reading curriculum, Himself was a rich Scotsman and I was squired-away on some estate somewhere, wearing tweed and instructing the servants where I would like to take my tea. We did what any well-mannered citizens of the world would do. We played her.
While giving the (somewhat embellished) account of how we met and married, we let it drop that I was older than my husband (I am). We joked that I was a cougar, and we all had a laugh, although you could see her mentally typing-up the last pages of her script of our lives in her head; cougar marries younger rich Scotsman and settles for a life as The Lady of the Manor. For the record, I am a little over two years older than my husband.
For days afterwards, I would feel her eyes on me at the pool, looking at my hair, my body... she was trying to quantify my age and worth before turning to her group of friends for consultation. I always made sure I had on at least one expensive-looking (looking) piece of jewellery for these little performances. I may have even referred to my husband as "Lord MacKillop" once or twice, I'm not sure. One day, I had on a very in-character animal print bikini (hey, it was on sale) and I overheard her say to her friends, "why do they always wear animal print?"
Because cougars always wear animal print.
I suppose some people might find this stuff upsetting, but the writer in me loves it when this kind of thing happens. This stuff is comedy gold.
And then The Scotsman grabbed Her Ladyship around the waist, pulled her to him, inhaling her lavender scent, and whispered in her ear, "Aye lass, you're a daughter of Scotland now. Whit's fer ye'll no go by ye."
And then he ripped her bodice. Of course he did.
Michael Kors dress via Ebay / H&M shoes (last season), similar
Escape to a land where no means yes
Escape to a land where no means yes