1) foot massages
2) vintage pin-ups
3) the “little black dress”
4) pearls
5) the pinots (noir and gris)
6) bubble baths and waterproof toys
7) red fingernail polish
8) waking up to sex in the middle of the night
9) knowing that my husband is watching me undress
10) class

Below is a post I made awhile back on another site.  Just thought it sort of coincided with this list.

Manscaping and the Death of Class in America

For Valentine’s Day, my husband surprised me with the following offering…to buy a sexy new dress, hot underthings for below that hot new dress, some new “catch me, fuck me” heels and a new scent of our choosing. Now, I already knew when we went shopping that I was on the hunt for new perfume (after having my first child, my chemistry changed drastically, and my former perfume no longer smelled as appealing to either of us). But, the other items were quite a shock. On occasion, I do, indeed love to shop. But, when I’m on a mission to find a particular item, I’m easy to frustrate because it is usually so difficult to find what I’m looking for. I think it’s that damned Murphy; as soon as he’s aware I’m on the hunt for something, he hides it. Consequently, if I’m broke and just out window shopping to quell the boredom…I almost always find “the” perfect item…or several of them.

Anyhow, we drove into the “city” for our shopping adventure. I was completely positive, excited to get started on my quest. First, the dress. That had to be found before I knew what kind or what color the underthings would need to be. The first store had a few things…but nothing that really struck my fancy…too many “prom” type dresses…and too many 70s prints in golds and greens that would not flatter my skin color. So, onto the next store. Nothing. Next store…junior’s department was stacked with lots of sexy little strapless numbers that would look excellent on a 100 lb. teenager. Nothing for me. We continued on through the “grown-up” section. Jeans…more jeans…some career wear…and a bunch of t-shirts, capris, and preppy-looking summer-wear for “moms”. The problem (obvious) is that I was not out to look like a mom. Quite the opposite, really.

When did it happen that women over the age of 17 got kicked out of the “sexy” club? I mean…everywhere I looked, ho-bag tramp gear abounded. Teeny tiny dresses for young girls sprouted like weeds. I know, I know…I thought to myself…it’s prom season. If I’d simply been shopping during New Year’s season I’d have found plenty of sexy little numbers for adults. Problem #2: it may be off-season, but does that mean that women only get to be or want to be sexy one time a year. The holidays are over…”sexy” is now off limits…the opportunity to be a “hot mama” has left the building. Okay, so I’ve learned my lesson, next year I’ll be 5 dresses during the season so I won’t have to face this again…but it still hasn’t solved my dilemma. I still need a hot dress. So, onto TJ Maxx. I figure…with all their out-of-season, brand-name stuff, I’ll find the perfect thing. No luck. How about Ross? Finally! Ta Da….several snazzy little numbers. I tried on about 5….2 fit. So, I bought them both. And lucky…neither needed the assistance of undergarments. In fact, they both required that I wear absolutely nothing (read: “happy husband”).

However, in order to get this far in my search, we’d already stopped twice for drinks and had been all over the mall. Now, we had to go back and do it all over again to search for shoes. No dice. I found one extremely sexy pair that would accommodate both dresses…but the heel was too skinny for me to walk in without breaking my neck, let alone dance (read: extremely unsexy!) The pair that fit and allowed me to walk was a disappointment…just plain not hot enough.

The perfume (Angel) was a hit, though. We spent several minutes under the care and guidance of a trained professional. She figured out just what we wanted within 5 tries. I spent the whole shoe search wearing the scent and making sure it was what I wanted. The fact that the husband kept trying to eat my neck for dessert made the decision all the more concretely clear.

In the end, we left town with two acceptably hot dresses, a very sexy perfume, no shoes, no underwear (on purpose)…and a heap of growing frustration…along with this question: Has classiness died in this country? Where did the sexiness of the 40s go? The classy, simple lines…the curvy silhouettes, the subtle knock-you-down gorgeousness? I had no idea it would be so hard to find. I thought classy never went out of style. I figured the classics were classics for a reason…and stayed fresh no matter what. The little black cocktail dress, Chanel #5, black heels, a simple updo for the hair, diamonds, etc. Enter prroblem #3: I’m sick of black. I have 12 black dresses that all look the same and all make me feel the same. I wanted new…but classy…classic. Wow…try to break the mold a little and you get nothing but guff from Murphy.

An additional question grew…out of the head of the first one: Did classiness for men die, too? I mean, I know my husband is on his way to finding his own type of class…and he cleans up to hotness, like, “right now”. But, as I looked around at the men shopping, I realized that they seemed to be in the same slump…jeans, t-shirts, baggy pants, sideways hats, or just plain sad get-ups crying out for the “What Not To Wear” team to attack them. Now, the men who take the time to truly tailor their appearance are accused of being effeminate. “You get manicures? – You must be gay.” “Metrosexual? Sounds homosexual to me!” Guffaw, guffaw…with a huge, white belly hanging out of the front of a Green Bay football jersey…PBR in hand. So my man drinks martinis, wears dress slacks and a “pumpkin”-colored micro-suede shirt… If he asks me to wax his back…am I going to laugh? Hell no. I think it’s awesome he’s up for some “manscaping”…and he sure as hell isn’t gay for wanting to be sexy and pleasing to look at for his lady.

So that’s what we did. We went to the beauty supply store, very stealthily went to the waxing supply corner and perused our options. Oh…so many! What would be the best option for two people who’d never waxed a thing in their lives (okay…there was that one Brazilian incident…but I prefer to bury that deep within my subconscious and never speak of it again!)? We picked a pack of 12 strips (labeled “good choice for sensitive skin, such as the bikini area”). Figured that was a safe choice for a first attempt.

There we were…in the master bathroom, heating up strips of wax with a hair dryer…me, the loving, dutiful wife, ripping patches of hair off of my darling significant other…thinking…how gross! How painful! But, how fucking awesome that we have this kind of relationship. I can wax his back hair. And in just a few minutes he’s going to shave my nether regions because I’m too damn chicken to go back to the waxer (and, let’s face it, I’m not willing to pay someone $90 to do that kind of damage to one of my most sensitive places). And after we’re done, we’re going to sip wine, share a nice meal, watch a little porn, make love, and go to sleep knowing that other couples just don’t have it this good.

So, to sum it all up…I don’t think it’s our fault. It seems like all of the truly fashionable clothing out there is “trendy”…you can pull off a punk or skater or gothic or trampy look…do a bit of that messy surfer look. That’s fine if you’re 15. I’m 30-something. I want to look like I’m 30-something. I have the experience. I’ve earned it, and I want to look like it…in something other than black.

Final question: Where do I shop? I know this stuff is out there. It’s obviously not at the mall (I know, duh!). So where do I find it? And keep in mind…though I want to look like a film goddess…I do not have the budget of one. I also don’t want to do this kind of shopping at Anne Taylor or Talbots…though classy, those types of stores create a “sexy” librarian/teacher look that is all to close to the look I have to achieve during my work week. Any suggestions?

Because while my husband may prefer me naked, the public might feel otherwise (at least on the outside).

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Always enjoy responsibily.
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