Come, admire my plumahge…

In the wild, animals and birds display their plumahge (pronounced ploo-marge I made that word up) to attract a mate. It is as simple as that.

It is also normally the males that put on a show.

I can’t help but think that the simplicity of this mating ritual has its fair share of perks. Basically a guy shows all his goods and you can decide there and then ‘nah, sorry mate that’s not for me..’ or ‘yeah, go on then…’

However, there are certain instances where human mating rituals aren’t all that more advanced.

Enter the primitive perv, here’s plumahge-ing at you babe…

Now, I walk home from Zumba on a regular basis. It is about a thirty minute walk, and it involves two main roads and the city center.   Let me paint the picture for you. The most comfortable jogging bottoms I could find rolled up to my knees, a black vest top with a sports bra underneath, all modestly covered with a grey hoodie I stole from my sisters wardrobe, and most importantly of all… I am dripping in sweat.

In this thirty minute sweat-strut I get checked out more than the rest of the week put together. I also never knew what it meant to be ‘hollered at’ until I started this walk.

Perhaps the reasons for this are simple science, a healthy glow and an interest in fitness is bound to be attractive to members of the opposite sex, after all, supposedly deep down we’re all searching for the other half of a perfect baby making machine.

What is truly baffling to me is the way these ‘suitors’ decide to indicate their attraction in an equally as primitive manner. Normally by staring me right in the face and letting out a sound I can only describe as ‘ooooooosssshhh’ that or some sort of line they have picked up from the latest gangster rap.

Now, excuse me while I fetch a ladder to climb up on to my high feminist horse.

THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. It’s intimidating, it’s inappropriate and also… ineffective.

Ok, may have fallen off my horse on that last one, however, there are many other feminists out there who can argue the other points far stronger than I can,and I fully support and applaud them for that.  Unfortunately my mind jumps straight to ‘Really, you think that is going to work?’

Sorry men of Manchester but you seriously need to work on your plumahge!

Now, on my latest sweat strut, I was pondering on this and was just checking my reflection for wayward sweat patches, thinking to myself, really, why don’t they just try words and a smile when…

‘Excuse me… girl in the grey jumper!’

I stopped, checked the ground thinking I must have dropped something when the young gentleman who had requested my attention went on to say…

‘Sorry but you keep looking at your reflection as your walking along, you don’t need to, you look good’

Completely dead pan. I was speechless.

I sort of went ‘HA, errrr, thanks?’ and walked off as quick as possible.

What the hell do I make of that?  Part of me is really angry at him. I didn’t ask for his opinion and now I’m even more tempted to look at my reflection but can’t cos you’ve actually made me more self-conscious about that than I was about the sweat patches. So yeah, thanks for that, but part of me thinks, well thanks, it was meant as a compliment, he obviously picked up on me being self conscious and maybe just thought he could save the world from yet another insecure girl.

He also didn’t expect anything to come from it. He carried on his conversation with his friend and let me sweat-scutter off.

That was perhaps the most unnerving of all.

Thank god normally our mating rituals involve ‘wait to text’ games and countless ‘do you think he likes me’ glasses of wine.


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