Sunday, April 18, 2010

dress the part

late last week, while i was rushing down a berkeley street near the BART station in order to get to the meatpaper and blue bottle event "food & thought" on the SF MOMA rooftop, i was taken aback when i heard a passing youth say loudly enough to pierce through the tunes blasting on my ipod "you hella pretty yo."

he didn't break his stride and i didn't break mine.

it took a millisecond or two for the comment to register and i was like "WTF?" then quickly glanced behind me to see who he was talking about.

there wasn't anyone else there.

humph. odd.

then once i was on the train, i decided to write about it in my journal. this event puzzled me quite a bit more than say, the evening before when i was walking through hayes valley and a group of young men...about 10ish of them or so...decided to provide their unsolicited feedback so that i could hear it down the street. i didn't speed up or slow down but rather pretended they weren't there. as a female who travels quite a bit by herself, this happens often. i'm not being immodest here. the foodie hunter is quite pragmatic. it has nothing to do with what i look like. on a good day with my style going on, i am cute (tops) but i'm no knockout a la angelina jolie/halle berry/christina hendricks/joan chen.

also as the majority of you dear readers have never seen me, you don't know that i'm a bit of prude. so there is no flashing of T&A thank you very much.


so it isn't like they are struck by what i look like, flashing bits and bobs, or anything like that.

it has to do with being female (and a small one at that), alone, and young 20ish year old men feeling the need to be dumb asses on occasion. i look at their dumb ass actions as one of their rites of passage and don't take it personally.

it took a long time for me to be in this sort of space about this sort of thing.

the much younger version of me (aka total UCB post-colonial feminist) was full of fire and brimstone about this sort of thing....objectification of women...of me...of my sexuality...blah blah blah blah....the younger me would write scathing diatribe-like poems about emasculating frat boys in my preppy baggy clothes and publish them under pseudonyms in campus literary journals. oh the anger. the anger. i'm shaking my head as i write this. if i could go back in time, i'd probably say something like this to my much younger self: "sweetie, it doesn't matter what you wear, they are still going to say stuff, even in that unsexy preppy baggy stuff. just be cool with yourself. they aren't worth getting all worked up about." which would probably have just pissed the younger me off even more. sigh. the anger. oh the anger.

yet, now i'm like, hmmm, "whatever. you won't be able to tap this ass...not even in your dreams".

but this youth was different. he was alone and he was, like, 16 years old!!! also, i didn't see it as him being a dumb ass as i don't think he wasn't trying to heckle to get my attention or anything like that. he said it like it was a declarative statement. this added to my puzzlement. is it my imagination or are youths getting bolder and bolder? or maybe as i am getting older and older, they are all looking younger and younger?

oddness.

thankfully, the next couple of hours went by without any hitches and i was able to have a great time at the sf moma.


they are having these "now playing" events on thursday nights and folks can get into the museum for half price. the meatpaper and blue bottle event was a part of the "now playing" event and i had been looking forward to it for over a week. beer and wine were complimentary and tasting plates were $5 each. the food at the event was inspired by the movie vertigo which was playing on the ground floor of the museum.

after having a bit of a nosh and taking some pics of the venue.....











i decided to wander around the museum and found myself spending an inordinately long amount of time (especially for the foodie hunter that is) in "the view from here" photography exhibit. overall, i had an absolutely lovely time. i think i will be going back to look at that exhibit again.

perhaps the next time i visit that exhibit, i will be living in the city.

just writing that sentence makes me grin.

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