BRINGING SEXY BACK


The other day I was scheduled to meet some clients so I put in a little extra effort. Hair, clothing, make up – just for the old confidence boost, ya know. I went downstairs and a few womxn extended their praise and compliments. I blushed – I was as red as a bleached butt! I asked myself afterwards, “Why did you feel so embarrassed?” It didn’t bug you before you became a mother.” I think because in today’s society it seems that motherhood and sexiness don’t go hand in hand, do they? Motherhood has become synonymous with floral bloomers and beige bras.

So, as a mom, do you identify as ‘sexy’?

Look, I get it. For a very long time your beautiful breasts are yours and then suddenly they belong to your baby. Your gorgeous, swaying hips are yours, then bear your bundle of joy. And ‘things that belong to your baby’ and ‘things that make you feel sexy’ don’t go in the same Whatsapp group. But why can’t we celebrate this amazing achievement? Why do we view bringing life into the world as a ‘downgrade’ of our beauty?

Why do mothers have such trouble feeling or seeing themselves as attractive, sensual, beautiful beings? We can (and should!) always see ourselves as strong, intelligent, gifted, hard-working, successful womxn but what is so wrong with also seeing ourselves as sensual, breathtaking beings? We always seem to have to pick one thing – you can’t be both smart and beautiful (we’re shocked when models are); we have terms like “mom jeans” and “mom underwear” – think Bridget Jones but with more holes - that imply moms are supposed to be unattractive and dressed as if they’re going to work for a mismatched socks and off-brand, irregular-sized yoga pants retailer.

More than just what you wear, I’ve always viewed sexiness as something that shines from the inside out. You know, when someone says, “there’s just something about her”. When I look at all my friends who are moms – they’re all incredibly sexy. From Zintle’s confidence to Nikki’s hips to Narique’s eyes – they each have something only they possess that makes them uniquely beautiful.  That “something about her” doesn’t fade.

I have this "joke", whenever I say something hilariously inappropriate, I’d say, “For heaven’s sake; I’m a mother!” I say it when we’re joking about wine tasting (read drinking too much), I say it when we’re planning to party until 10pm (woohoo!) and I’ve found myself saying it when I dash past La Senza. I say it when I think of taking up pole dancing or hip hop dance classes. When did ‘mother’ become ‘kloosterkoekie’? When Truworths made that massive faux pas of casting what looked like a 17-year old model for their Mother's Day campaign and placed her in lingerie, I agreed that it was an unrealistic, incorrect depiction of mothers but I also asked myself why I didn't identify with the 'sexiness' in it at all?


That night after the client meeting, I put on some lingerie (just for me) and looked at my body that had gone through this amazing transformation into motherhood. For the first time in long time I looked at it with a smile. I shoved the lingerie into our clothes hamper 30 seconds later between some towels but it was a blissful 30 seconds. For 30 seconds, I didn’t see my stretch marks, my feet that are now too big for my stilettos, that weird single hair that I pluck once a week. For the first time I saw both a majestic vessel of life and a sensual womxn.

<fearless girl pose>

I’ve always looked at boudoir shoots, as something I would like to do. Not for anyone, just for me. There’s something so awe-inspiring about the shoots I’ve seen online. Not just the gorgeous tattoos, lacy underwear and plump apricot butts – but how the womxn transform from the first pic to the last. They start off withdrawn and self-conscious, then suddenly a gorgeous Amazonian warrior is released. Their confidence is so inspiring and beautiful. To expose yourself in another way – to be there - raw, naked, uninhibited and unashamed is graceful, elegant and hot AF, jaw-droppingly hot. It’s so liberating.

You read articles about ‘getting your perfect post-baby bod’ or celebs ‘rocking their new post-baby bod, as if you’re meant to be hiding in a cave - a grotesque creature not ready to emerge from a swamp. Why? This is a pic by Alexandra Beth from her page, girlytalk, - a vegan mum I follow online – 12 days after her baby. You cannot think of any other words besides fierce and beautiful. (I do not have permission for this pic but do subscribe to Alexandra girly talk for amazing vegan vids and recipes!)




So, please promise me you’ll go for the boudoir shoot. (or do your own!)
Promise me you’ll learn that sexy dance routine – whether to Janet Jackson’s Velvet Rope or ‘Die Leeuloop’.
Promise me you’ll buy that damn dress.
Promise me you won’t wait for the “perfect” (urgh!) post-baby bod. You already have it.
Promise me you’ll look in the mirror with confidence.
Promise me you’ll admire your majestic breasts and heavenly hips.
Promise me you’ll fall in love with your sexy brain.
Promise me you’ll see how sexy you are.

xx


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