I used to eat bananas whenever, wherever, without a second thought. Then some girl said, "Really? You don't get stares?" I hadn't noticed... I guess sometimes I do, but I always assume people are just in awe of my fabulous wardrobe. Besides, why would anyone st... oh.
I thought she was being paranoid, but then I caught a couple of twelve(ish)-year-old boys sniggering at me on a Buenos Aires bus. Since then, I've kept my banana enjoyment indoors.
Buenos Aires is also where I picked up Bananas; I love the kicky cutout-inspired pattern (it's a little Matisse-y)
and the gold buttons running down the lefthand side.
The material is a heavier woven cotton, which lends it more shape. (Heavier fabrics always look better fitted, I've found.)
So, I'm just walking around Buenos Aires—actually I am coming out of the subte, walking up the staircase, and a man on his way down goggles at me, points at my hemline
and gives me a thumbs-up, leering enthusiastically. As street harassment goes, that's pretty mild, but it still made me feel really self-conscious about Bananas in public. I haven't worn it out since. And that, my friends, is how the patriarchy gets into your head and stays there, making you doubt your choices and police your own behavior.
What am I scared of? That some anonymous jerk is going to think my dress is short? Well, it is. So what? That some teenage boys are going to make a bj joke? Dog knows teenage boys hate making bj jokes and will only do it if forced to by some unnatural woman flouting the rules of modesty and eating a banana.
The bottom line is, don't let the bastards stop you from wearing exactly what you want to. If they don't like it, or if they like it too much, or if they don't even notice, that is 100% not your problem. I'm going to wear Bananas in public, and I am going to eat bananas in public, and not in that prissy way where you break off a little piece with your fingers first.
Photos by Claire Loeb!
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