Wouldn't It Be Nice Not to Give a Shit What They Think of You?

"What Do Women Want?"
by Kim Addonizio

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what I want.

When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.

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GR-OWL! That's some fucking Chutzpah right there, I'm tellin' you.

IT'll. BE. THE. GODDAMNED. DRESS. THEY. BURY. ME. IN.
Oh Hell, yeah!

So I’m thinking to myself, as I lose this weight (57 pounds today, wooo-who for me), that I want to stop worrying about what society thinks of me. Just fuck ‘em. Seriously. And I’m thinking it would nice to have a red dress of my own.

Even if it’s not red and it’s not a dress but I can wear it just the same.

That red dress symbolizes the attitude that every woman should carry around with her. It’s the “smoking hot, fire-engine red, lipstick smeared, come and get me cause I’m the best you’re gonna get” attitude that I’d like to walk down the street with. Maybe I shouldn’t lose any more weight. I might be a real handful if I do. But you know what I’ll say?

Bow before me!