It’s been nose to the grindstone so a Saturday out with friends came as a welcome distraction.
I’ve had a blitz with online shopping recently and bought a tunic to replace one which suffered a bleach mishap when trying to sell the house. Always said housework was dangerous. I’m a huge fan of lime green and have an ancient and very battered shirt in that colour which I’ve worn to death. Its death. It’s also suffered a bleach mishap. See earlier comment about housework.
Bear with, I’m getting to the point.
The newly purchased top, which online looked a limey-green-yellow and would replace both ruined garments, turned out to be yellow. And I mean yellow. Children’s presenter, prime colour yellow.
I like bright colours and I like yellow so I wore it on Saturday thinking it would cheer up yet another grey spring day. Not entirely sure it suited me but hey, nothing ventured, nothing sartorially gained.
As I joined the queue in the corridor, waiting for the train to stop, my bright yellow personage seemed to be attracting quite a lot of attention. Looking around all I could see was navy and black, grey and brown so maybe I stood out. A bloke began chatting to me. He was tall and thin and about my age.
‘You’re looking very enthusiastic,’ he added, as the train eventually came to a halt.
‘I will be when I’ve had a coffee,’ I mumbled.
All innocent stuff. And I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean enthusiastic. Optimistic perhaps? Or maybe he was being sarcastic! Who knows? It didn’t bother me, we got off the train and he disappeared.
It was only when I got on the second train of the day and was a bit more awake that I began to think the encounter over. Would I have caught his eye had I been wearing my navy coat over the yellow top? Would he have ignored me as he was ignoring everyone else? So, had wearing something out of the ordinary, daring to bring attention to myself even in a very insignificant way, somehow facilitated him talking to me? Strangely enough, later in the day, the yellow top attracted another comment, this time from a woman serving me coffee and this I took simply as a compliment.
So what makes it different when it comes from a man?
I suppose it’s possible the encounter could be seen as a chat up. It’s been so long since anyone chatted me up that I’ve forgotten the signals. I very much doubt he would have said anything and certainly not made a personal comment, had Hubs been with me.
Or was he reacting, unconsciously I’m sure, to a woman being something everso slightly out of the ordinary. Now, I’m aware I’m in danger of going over-board here but let me add another observation.
Last week I met a load of writers and bloggers and a good time was had by all. Mostly women, having a chat and a glass of wine mid afternoon in a city pub. A stag do arrived and it became obvious they were very intrigued by us. One of them came over to ask who we were and why we were there. He was perfectly polite and charming, although a little drunk (well he was on a stag do) but the inference was – women! Of a certain age! In a pub! Having a good time! How very dare we!
Is it the reality that, as long as we conform to stereo-types or don’t bring any attention to ourselves, we’ll be left alone?
Mr Train Guy was probably just being friendly – and I took it as such and was friendly back, if half-asleep. Or maybe he just really likes yellow.
The point being, although neither man was in any way insulting, abusive or even unpleasant, both made unwanted intrusions.
Am I in danger of over-reacting? Has anything like this happened to you? How did it make you feel? Please tell me. The yellow peril top is hanging in the wardrobe. One day I might put it on for another social experiment. Or maybe I’ll just wear beige and quietly get on with my day.
All images (c) pixabay with grateful thanks