@bule_jr: Hello people.
Welcome to ‘Date Days’. A series that is going to try and look at the perspective that both sexes have about dating and first dates.
Hope you learn something new and its worth your while.
Today we begin by looking into what girls go through in preparation for a ‘first date’. Enjoy.
If he’s going to like me, if this is going to work, it will work regardless of what I do and don’t do. If this is going to work, he’s got to like me for ME.
That’s what I tell myself as I stand in the shower, 3 hours before my first date with D.
That’s what the rational part of my brain says as I carefully shave my legs and my under-arms and scour myself with a homemade sugar and lemon scrub. That’s what I try and remember as I massage lightly scented oil into my wet, clean skin. That’s the refrain I mutter as I pat myself dry and stroke my now baby soft, super smooth body.
I had a wax yesterday, even though it’s a first date and so, technically, D shouldn’t get anywhere near my lady garden. But one should always be prepared, Mama always said. Although I don’t think she was quite talking about that. I got my eyebrows done too, and a manicure and a pedicure. My nails were now a pale pink, ladylike and pretty. I’d agonised over that- should I go for a sultry red or a bold purple? Or do I want to appear down-to-earth with nothing more than a subtle gloss? The Korean lady had said “Pink is nice, yes, for lady. Nice for lady”
Yes, yes, but will he think it’s nice? And if things spiral out of control, will he think my landing strip is nice? Or is he one of those men who like women to look as bare as eggs down there?
I pad out of the bathroom and stand naked in front my wardrobe.
It’s a first date, I remind myself again, so it shouldn’t matter…but still, I consider. Black lace is my first choice- a demi cup bra and boyshorts. Sexy but not slutty- what a fine line that is. But I hear my friend S’s voice in my head…”always wear your crappy underwear on a first date! That way, you won’t be tempted to shag him” and I bring out my trusty, slightly faded, Marks &Spencer set.
Unsure, I reach into my drawer for a third time, retrieving a white teddy. La Perla and rarely worn. It makes my waist look tiny and breasts look…not so tiny. It makes me feel like Wonder Woman. I lace myself into it and strike a pose in the mirror. I pout at myself a little, then nod. Yes, this one.
A play and then dinner, he’d said. Trousers were out- even though I’d just bought a new silk pair on sale from COS. Trousers were for a second date, or perhaps even a third. If there was a third…
Gosh, I hope this goes well…
I discard my maxi dresses as well, shoving the whole lot of them to one side. I don’t want him to think I’m hiding a belly.
I consider outfit after outfit. Some I try on, some I simply hold in front of myself before tossing on the floor. I soon have a Top 3 and I’m tempted to send pictures to my friends for their input. I hunt for my phone in my now horribly messy room to do just that. I find it in a shoebox. Damn. The battery’s dying. I plug it in and turn back to my mirror.
You’re on your own, kid.
Okay, remember the rules…If you go tight, you can’t go short too. If you show cleavage you can’t show leg. Emphasise your waist and flatter your ass.
Finally, eventually, I settle on a grey jersey dress. It has a scoop neck, nipped in waist and ends at midthigh. It is soft to the touch and flattering.
Heels to make my legs look fabulous? Or flats? I bite my lip and consider…D isn’t that tall, I remind myself. I don’t want to tower over him….I compromise, and set out a pair of 3inch midi heels. After all, I tell myself, we might do some walking. Nothing worse than having to stop because your feet hurt. No one falls in love with a girl with achy feet.
I gasp a little, and freeze, when I realise I’ve broken the cardinal rule of a first date. I’ve thought of the L word. I’ve mentally run a marathon before I could even sit up without assistance and now I’ve doomed this first date to be the last. I wipe my mouth as if I could take the words back. I knock three times on my wooden dresser. I say “I’m sorry God! Don’t jinx it!”. I feel silly when I’m done, but better.
Makeup? Hair? I pull out my iPad and open the youtube app. There is a tutorial I bookmarked a week ago…”How to do Sexy Hair”…
An hour later, slightly frustrated and with aching arms, I survey my now perfectly coiffed hair in the mirror. It looks good.
A few swipes later and I’m watching another tutorial “How to do Sexy Makeup”. 30 mins and a great deal of stops and starts later, I have smoky eyes, nude lips and a rosy complexion. Nude lips are key, you see.
Because if we snog, I don’t want to leave colour on his lips. He’s not mine yet, I have no right to brand him.
I slip on my watch and… Damn! I’m almost late! How the hell did 3 hours go by so quickly? I frantically opened my jewellery box, swearing when the contents fly everywhere. Where the hell are they? I know they’re here somewhere…Aha!….Gold earrings.
I put my debit card, my phone, my keys and my lipgloss into my bag. I pause, then put £50 in there too. Vex money…
My doorbell rings. He’s here! I squeal and slide on my shoes, grab my blazer and spritz on some perfume.
I take 3 deep breaths before I open the front door.
“Wow. You look amazing”
“Oh? Really? Thanks…I didn’t really have a lot of time to get dressed. I only got back from work half an hour ago….”
So Ladies, do you recognise any patterns here?
What do you do on your own dates that are not listed here that you will like to share with us?
But importantly, can you tell us why you do these things?
Guys, has your level of respect gone up for the ladies, seeing what they have to do to look good just for us?
Next time you are out on a date are you gonna compliment the girl a bit more to let her know that all her efforts are not in vain?
Please share your thoughts with us using the comments box.
See you same time tomorrow with the male response to this.