The look of love

I have found that how you look makes people treat you differently. Well, d’uh, you might say. And your exclamation might well be right.

Of course we should all make an effort to look after ourselves. Looking good is a significant part of feeling good about ourselves. That’s why so many of us are dedicated followers of fashion. But, more than this, I’ve noticed that casual acquaintances – colleagues, friends of friends etc – tend to treat me differently on days when I look good compared to days when I look merely my usual average self.

Now, you know me gentle reader; I’m not one to boast. But at a stretch, on my very very good days I can see myself as quite attractive. Coming out helped me in two ways. The first is I made an effort to lose some weight, dress better etc. The revelation, supremely hurtful though it was, that Darren was slumming it with frumpy old me spurred me on to no small extent. I went down from 92kg (203lbs) to 75kg (165lbs) over a carefully planned six-month diet.

The second thing was the veritable human wave of man types willing, nay eager, to make Frumpella’s acquaintance. I even managed to convince some of them to hang around for a while.

So it worked.

But the fact remains if I dress just right, my hair is OK, I’m wearing the right shoes, people will talk to me and then the next day, when I revert to type, so do they: ignoring me.

I’m not talking about the superficiality of the average gayer. I’m as guilty as anyone of picking in the past a potential partner, for dates or assignations, primarily on looks. I mean: it’s bad but we’re not exactly looking for to oh-so-telling ample bosoms and wide child bearing hips are we? THAT’S not shallow at all…

The funny thing now is, having plumbed new depths of lightness (if that makes sense) people do keep complimenting me on my looks. Having gone down from a medium to a small I get to have even more retail therapy now; on the other hand having seen photo’s of myself throwing some shapes on the dancefloor last Saturday I know that MUCH work remains to be done. In many ways, despite opening up to valuing myself through others’ appraisals (a risk we all take when putting ourselves out there), being noticed makes me fell quite good. I try to get more of it. I try also not to be to vain… honest.

Some of my friends do get exasperated by my wish not to put the weight back on – I don’t know what this illness is but I bet I could make good money if it turns out to be contagious. But looking good – or at least making a real effort – is getting quite important to me.