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Swoosh swoosh swoosh. Corduroy trousers, the gentle zipping sussurating sound as I stroll through the neighborhood. When I reach the main street, my steps are faster, and the sound steps up: zizz zizz zizz, this girl means business!
As a child, I loved corduroy. I loved the contrast of textures, the velvety stripes and the stern, plain valleys between them. I loved their toughness. I loved the word: cord-u-roy. And I loved the sounds as I walked: swoosh, zizz, zoop.
Then adolescence arrived, with its attendant self-tortures. Suddenly, the sounds (swoosh, zizz, zoop!) only meant painful, scorching body awareness: legs! I have legs! They swoosh when I walk! Gaaaaah, how mortifying! Totally. For years, I eschewed corduroy, to avoid the swoosh that told the world “I have a body! I have legs! I have a body! It sings when I walk!”
Years later, mindful of all the bodily risks and near-misses between then and now, I happily announce: I have a body! It sings when I walk!
Corduroy trousers, I love you. And you love me back. I know you do, because you whisper it to me: swoosh swoosh swoosh.
If you’re still not using Ask Metafilter, you’re missing out.
You’re missing intense and geeky discussions of specific word usage and shifts in the language.
You’re missing fun and useful threads of advice, like this one on getting through the winter.
You’re missing semi-sociological conversations about power dynamics and gendered space, like this question asking “What happens when men pass each other on the sidewalk?”:
Help me understand the power dynamics in play when two men pass each other on the sidewalk.
Over the last few years I’ve started to get an inkling that there’s a whole separate silent conversation happening between men on the street that I, as a woman, am not really ever aware of. How they make eye contact, how much space they allow for each other to pass, who moves aside, etc. When someone bumps me with their arm I assume it’s accidental; I’m starting to think such things between men are not always so (at least if the number of almost-fistfights my ex got into are any indication).I realize much of this probably happens on an unconscious level, but I’d love to hear any explanations or rules anyone can lay out, and whether this is a constant thing or contextual.
The ensuing discussion is fascinating and in some places contentious.
Anyone can read Ask Metafilter, and if you pay the $5 cover, you can join, ask one question each week, and give advice all the live-long day.
I didn’t plan to bring a bachelor’s gift, but how could I resist?
Elli
Elsa
