This blogging prompt spoke to me — and I answered.
In a past life I wore a uniform. One that said I was a fixer of emergencies and a solver of problems. Seeing me, you had confidence that if you needed help, I was your go to girl. As an interloper in a male dominated field, men gave me the stink-eye, a curious stink-eye though, one that asked both, can she kick my ass for real, and you know…can she kick my ass. (Yes, Brother, on both accounts, I certainly can.) Women gave me the you go girl nod, as if somehow I was walking affirmation that their female tribe members could prevail at whatever they chose. (They can.) I didn’t make a habit of walking about dressed for duty when off but when time’s short and there’s mouths to feed you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do and as long as I didn’t trip over the curb or my feet and managed to keep my fly up (no easy feat pants quality wise) I walked taller, confident in the confidence quietly launched my way. Confidence = sexy. Every time.
On the other hand, sky-high pumps, fish net stockings, and a leather bustier work just as well, just not in the dairy aisle at the Winn Dixie.