I recently posted here about waist training. Since then, I must say I have received quite a number of reactions, from mild annoyance (haba Pearl, your waist is fine na? Why do you need waist trainer?) to mild jealousy (ha, so you will now be doing shakara anyhow) to mild curiosity (so did you buy the waist trainer? Does it really work?) to mild warnings (cue in boyfriend with furrowed brow ‘babe just be safe okay?’); to dire warnings (a tweet I was tagged in telling me how a woman was brought to the emergency unit in the hospital with broken ribs and perforated lungs as a result of waist trainer – I told them she was wearing the wrong size) to dire curiosity (I went to a friend’s office and she dived my waist and grabbing me, announced to the hearing of the whole office floor ‘are you waist training?’ followed by disappointment that I wasn’t because as I put it, I like to breathe)… you can say I’ve seen it all.
In the spirit of the post and the laughter it provoked, my friend called me and we had a lengthy conversation which turned philosophical at a point.
I confessed to her that the whole idea of a waist trainer felt somehow deceptive to me. I mean, you go around with this hour-glass figure, one bobo follows you around (let’s face it, it begins with what they see, I’m not interested in arguments about how beauty is more than skin-deep, please). So anyway, eventually, you get to the nakeding part of the whole something and then things start to come off and that’s how Nicki Minaj will become… no not Adele, Beth Ditto or Monique. Which is okay except that the guy thought he was getting a Nicki. What do you say? Do you keep a straight face on like it’s nothing? Do you act like hell, he shoulda known an impossible body like this is… well, impossible.
Now the reason I would think along these lines can be traced to the fact that I wear glasses. Let me explain. Whenever I meet ‘someone’ and I’m not wearing my glasses, I feel the need to say hey, my eyes are bad, I cannot really function without these thick glasses; right now I am wearing contacts, I need you to know this upfront so, y’know, later, it doesn’t seem like I somehow deceived you. It’s actually happened. I will never forget the guy’s face when I wore my glasses and he looked at me like dafuq and looked so disappointed and I felt like a fraud. Never mind, it was a fleeting feeling.
So yeah, it’s my way of laying my cards on the table, what you see is what you get so to speak. This argument was further buttressed by a post I saw somewhere where someone said, ‘women be wearing fake hair, fake nails, fake lashes, fake breasts, fake ass, fake everything covered in layers of makeup and then be saying I want a real man.’ I’m like that makes sense. If you can lie about your boobs, can he lie about his income? You see?
So anyway, I raised this issue of my discomfort with ‘trickery’ and my friend agreed with me. But I’m famous for arguing two sides of the same argument with equal bias, so I stated that it was not the same thing. When a guy sees a chick, he knows the hair is fake, the nails are fake, the makeup is… well, makeup etc. But a girl cannot see a guy and think he borrowed that car, this isn’t actually his house.
Anyway, I am still beleaguered by the question so I’m throwing it out there. If you are training your waist or wearing anything at all that gives an untrue representation or impression of your ‘attractiveness’ (sic) do you have the burden of full disclosure? Is proceeding while allowing this hapless other person continue under an illusion fair, or in fact criminal? Is divulgence of this sort an admission or acceptance of the fact that at least part of your appeal to this person is physical and that you endorse this? Do you thereby, albeit unwittingly, objectify yourself? Sorry, I don’t have the answers.
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