Imagine, a finger slowly outlining the edge of where lace makes a path across your body, warm breath on bare skin.
The lingerie serving as the last curtain to be pulled before the finale begins. This prelude sends waves of anticipation, pleasure, and desire. You catch a glimpse of yourself outlined in a bit of delicate luxury and feel sexy.
Oh, and how nice that feels -- sexy.
Sexy is not a feeling I get to experience often, it’s just never been my strong point. This has only been exacerbated by the fact that I live in rural Ethiopia, where I change my clothes once a week and bucket bathe less than that.
As I packed for this two year adventure I was thinking function over fashion. Which is why I decided to bring only one pair of “nice” underwear – ones with satin and a little lace fringe - amidst the other “I don’t care about this tri-color, 12-pack of cotton ‘granny pannys’ my mom put in my stocking the Christmas before”, underwear. The tri-color pack is great. However, I am so grateful for the one pair of “nice” undies I decided to bring. Despite the fact that the lace is now torn on them, some of the little bows have fallen off, they are discolored, and probably send more of a “you should buy new underwear” message than a “sexy” message, I still love to wear them. I especially like to save wearing them for when I go to “the city.” Why?
Because they make me feel little fancier and dressed up, like I have a little secret that nobody but me knows. I feel a little daring. Or more, perhaps there is a random chance I meet someone and how glad I’d be that I was wearing my lace not my cotton. These are some of the things I think about as I put on my worn pair of lacey silky undies in the dark, up early to catch the 6am bus into town.
But as I return home again in the dark of the evening, inevitably alone and untouched, I do not despair. For I still get to relish in the excitement of escaping the mundane.
I keep the secret for myself.
I get to feel the slow trace of my own finger and breathe against my skin. And on my own, in my lace, I feel sexy.
Such a genuine voice and eloquent simplicity has allowed me to relate in a surprisingly familiar way, within wholely different circumstances. Love this meeting of the camera, the body, the lace and the word. Bravo