So there are the women that we admire for being smarter, prettier, more confident and more put-together than we are. Then there are the women who we just...sort of...feel sorry for. And this doesn't mean we feel sorry for women who are bigger than us or less stylish. It's a way that a woman carries herself that makes the difference.
I was at the gym today and there was this woman in the locker room who I couldn't help staring at. For starters, her expression was sad but she stood hunched over like she didn't have the energy to right herself. She wore her home-dyed hair in a half ponytail bound with a scrunchie; a look that Sharon Cherski wore with so much more attitude...in 1994. Her outfit wasn't too bad, as much as it was bland...a pair of gray dress pants and a tan top...though then she added the huge blue granny sweater. Oy. I felt bad that I kept looking at her, but she seemed so sad and a small, shallow part of me wondered if she would have been more excited about getting dressed if she had a better outfit. It was one of those times that I wanted to take her to the Gap across the street and get her a new outfit.
She seemed like one those people who only spoke or even smiled if they really had to and then it took considerable effort. And for someone who just worked out, she didn't seem to have the end-of-the-workout high that many of get so that we can bear to go and sit at our desks again. I don't know. I could be totally wrong and she could be the happiest person, like, ever...but if body language was any indicator, that isn't the case.
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