HOLD ON
//
PAIN ENDS
Another lady indoors carried on her canvas the old apple pie, Have a nice day.
The impulse to run that one down to make the woman state her bona fides was resisted. On another day the lady would not have gotten away unchallenged.
Either/or was in fact welcome relief from GENTLE WOMAN. Truly. Yeow! That one was seriously splatttering the brain. Months it had been only GW bags, albeit carpet dimension. Now suddenly the progression everywhere to purses & apparel like secondary aftershocks.
The older gal here, older than the second—first was advanced years—with her usual heavy eye-liner, had tried on a shy smile last week, after sheepishly fetching up to the table at the end of the row.
Make-up. Smart office/front desk navy. Tightly bound coloured hair. The echo of the Italo/Grecian tragics, those beauties who had never found love or managed children, surprised in that unfamiliar Chinese form. (Callas, Magnani; &etc.)
For her tea break the lady didn’t cart her bag, though there was certainly one in the wardrobe.
The regular 4PM Indian techies at Toast Box knew the style you yourself were sporting, by the way, fella. For them the slightly ragged, dishevelled chic referenced the old saddhus back home, the gurus & holy men. Didn’t get much of a run hereabout, especially in the biz quarter.
These particular guys were also a trifle shy in their own way; couple generations later the colour bar still remained. You got that as one of the privileged, from all three races here; but the Indians in particular. Passing a word, a comment or hallo to many of them often produced a start. Followed by something like gratitude.
But Gent. double V. That feather tickle would just not let up. It kept on keeping on. Feminism had barely scratched the surface in these parts on the SE Asian Equator. There were plenty feisty, knowing old gals around the place. The soft feather-tickle snowball fem, however, certainly did blitz the field. Some of the chipmunk voices on the street drilled through the bone. Nothing comparable. Minnie Mouse & the other cuties.
Couple years ago one of the conservative Malaysian Ministers…But this was going to sound crazy; impossible to credit.
…Women ought, suggested said Min.—for women’s affairs, from memory, in the recent backdoor government up there; lady by the name of Rina Harum. (It would appear on a Google search.) Women ought, counselled Minister RH, in her tight scarf & caked make-up… speak to their husbands like the cartoon character, Doraemon.
Well, whatever that critter might be in all its particularity.
No kind of make-believe. Easily verifiable.
(Check: Women, Family & Community Development, in the Ismail Sabri government of Malaysia. Also rather contentious, shall we say, same Minister’s stance on underage marriage. Again, easily checked.)
Thought had been Gentle was first adopted in the fashion houses of France or Spain as part of the backlash.
We’re on your side, boys. All for it. Trad. gentling laid on here. You can count on us.
Cat & poodle gals. Allow women to be women; &etc. Middle & upper-middle tier. Pleated skirts, heels, make-up & lashes.
Beauty duty was a given here; matter of course. Well-nigh impossible to get a look-in otherwise, on a career ladder or any place else. You almost never saw casual Gentles. Nothing but the full panoply; the hour prep before getting out the door.
They wouldn’t exactly gravitate to old, worn guys with bad teeth, though naturally the whiting did retain its allure. Got you a foot in the door.
NB. Googling again, the Thai genesis was surprising. A triumph for the fashion designers there.
Singapore, 2011-25