My very own Queer Eye
People say that gay guys are a girl's best friend, but I think hanging out with gay guys is very stressful because they can be so ... bitchy.
Well, at least the one I hang out with. He's very critical about my dressing, makeup, hairstyle, etc, and has no qualms about giving me his brutally honest opinion even if it means reducing me to tears.
If I've somehow or other managed to mix and match my accessories wrongly, he makes it sound like I've committed a heinous crime.
"What are you wearing??!"
"These are new accessories I got last weekend. Nice or not?"
"No!! It's like you dug through a dustbin and found these pieces. So ugly! Not matching some more!"
More often I hear these lines:
"Don't you have any colour sense?!!"
"Owwww, my eyes!!!"
"Kucing, I'm not going out with you if you insist on wearing that horrible blouse!"
He's my self-appointed style guru but here's the problem. Our fashion sense is completely different. I hate his taste and he hates mine. We're both great at pointing out other people's fashion disasters, especially him with his keen eye that can spot an outdated pair of shoes or the wrong shade of eyeshadow from miles away.
But I'm way more cincai and he can't stand it. He takes great pride in his appearance and can't understand why I'm happy to go about in some clothes that date back to the late 90s, without much makeup on. I make an effort for special occasions, but don't expect me to pile on the makeup, put on some sexy clothes and strap on the high heels just to go to the mamak.
We go shopping and he'll insist I try on clothes that I would otherwise never be caught dead in. I have to grudgingly admit that his taste is better than mine, but I want to be comfortable in what I wear, and that means I get to choose my own outfits, thank you very much.
So we continue to clash. And he continues to bitch. And yet we're still friends, since whenever he opens his mouth to tell me off, I roll my eyes at him and tell him that his butt (his pride and joy) looks big in those pants. That shuts him up since for the next 15 minutes or so, he'll be busy checking out his reflection in every shop window we pass by.
Then we bitch about others, and all is well again.
Till next time, this is Kucing Gatal signing out with a merry Meow.
Well, at least the one I hang out with. He's very critical about my dressing, makeup, hairstyle, etc, and has no qualms about giving me his brutally honest opinion even if it means reducing me to tears.
If I've somehow or other managed to mix and match my accessories wrongly, he makes it sound like I've committed a heinous crime.
"What are you wearing??!"
"These are new accessories I got last weekend. Nice or not?"
"No!! It's like you dug through a dustbin and found these pieces. So ugly! Not matching some more!"
More often I hear these lines:
"Don't you have any colour sense?!!"
"Owwww, my eyes!!!"
"Kucing, I'm not going out with you if you insist on wearing that horrible blouse!"
He's my self-appointed style guru but here's the problem. Our fashion sense is completely different. I hate his taste and he hates mine. We're both great at pointing out other people's fashion disasters, especially him with his keen eye that can spot an outdated pair of shoes or the wrong shade of eyeshadow from miles away.
But I'm way more cincai and he can't stand it. He takes great pride in his appearance and can't understand why I'm happy to go about in some clothes that date back to the late 90s, without much makeup on. I make an effort for special occasions, but don't expect me to pile on the makeup, put on some sexy clothes and strap on the high heels just to go to the mamak.
We go shopping and he'll insist I try on clothes that I would otherwise never be caught dead in. I have to grudgingly admit that his taste is better than mine, but I want to be comfortable in what I wear, and that means I get to choose my own outfits, thank you very much.
So we continue to clash. And he continues to bitch. And yet we're still friends, since whenever he opens his mouth to tell me off, I roll my eyes at him and tell him that his butt (his pride and joy) looks big in those pants. That shuts him up since for the next 15 minutes or so, he'll be busy checking out his reflection in every shop window we pass by.
Then we bitch about others, and all is well again.
Till next time, this is Kucing Gatal signing out with a merry Meow.
posted by Kucing Gatal at
10:31 AM
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9 comments
