It was the night before Christmas, and the presents needed wrapped. She pulls out tape and scissors, ribbon and bows. No need for clothes. Who will know tomorrow, uncles and aunts, grandparents and kids, how she wrapped each present half naked. Here's to the comforts of home, the simple pleasures of the holidays, being sexy without even thinking about it.
Anyone who has driven anywhere in America --particularly past shopping blocks of the usual chain stores -- will know about Hooters and their hot wings and the waitresses who are famous for their, well...hooters. The dress code is short shorts and tight tanktops, and it's not exactly a secret that the patrons are there more for the view than the menu.
For years the Hooters franchise has been to America like that one uncle we all have -- definitely a nice guy, and overall harmless, but just a little skeazy. Hooters made the news one year when a man sued for discrimination because Hooters wouldn't hire him as a waiter. Alternately, church groups and PTAs will put up a cry whenever a new shopping mall goes up near their suburban corner with a Hooters slated for grand opening.
As much as you hate to agree with self-righteous soccer moms, you have to admit Hooters is a warped American hold-over of sexist times. It's a place where literally women are on display for their bodies, and clearly objectified as sexual objects. What seems to have gone so wrong with this concept is not that women aren't sexual, or even don't like a room of guys checking out the curves God gave them, but that the dress code is a cheap uniform, the menu mediocre, and the overall effect is like a lukewarm cross between a strip club and a KFC.
This photo, though, turns the tables. Here, our American Wife says loud and proud that she is worth checking out, she is a hottie, she has a rack to be reckoned with.
Every American Wife can be a Hooters Girl. Hold the hot wings and the jalapeño poppers. We’ll take this meal at home.
Kiss the Cook
hawaii Honeymoon, Home
After a week of bliss, they returned. Same house, same backyard, same bills. Like their bronze tans, Hawaii seemed to slip away. Each night their bedroom passion was inspired by the images still in their minds of skin and sun and san. Over time, those faded, too. There is something about the air in the tropics, the sweet flowers, the fecund scent of ripe fruit. They way you could walk about in public with little to nothing on. No wonder the sailors of Captain Cook's ships were shocked and amazed by the native women wearing nothing but grass skirts around their wide hips, a string of flowers over full breasts.
One night, when it was warm, our American wife pulls out some souvenirs from their trip. He grabs the camera. The passion renewed.
Hawaii Honeymoon, room
They had swam that morning and hung the suits on the balcony to dry. She wrapped in a silk sarong and sat at the side board to check her email. She wrote a few notes to friends and to her family to let everyone know they'd arrived safely and were having a fine time relaxing. He snapped her photo, sun glasses and sun screen at her side. This, he thought, is paradise perfectly.
Hawaii Honeymoon, diner
They had been swimming all day. As it grew dark, they became hungry and ready for dinner and cocktails. She went into one of the cabanas to change. She didn't want to have to sit on a wet suit, or to walk around the resort with wet spots on her breasts. So she stripped naked and slipped her sundress on.
At dinner, they shuffled a deck of cards. "What game?" he asked. "Truth or dare," she answered.
He won the first hand and she told him a truth about not wearing underwear. A few more rounds and a dare came out: snap a photo here at the table. other guests in the background, sipping their mai tais. The game continued thorugh cocktails and on up in their room.
Hawaii Honeymoon, pool
For thier honeymoon, they booked a hotel in Hawaii. They bought a plastic-encased disposable camera to take photos when they went snorkling.
Of course they had to test the camera first. It was bright outside. A few hotel guests lounged in the sun. A few kids played in the surf. He slipped the camera underwater as their heads bobbed above the surface. She reached down and pulled her suit to the side.
The image will come out clear, sparkling. It will become a favorite photo from the trip, capturing the moment of playful adventures.
Backyard camping prep
summer is here
In 1863, French Impressionist Painter Edouard Manet displayed his painting "The Picnic." The large canvas became the focus of scandalized critical and public attention. It certainly raises interesting questions: two men share picnic and conversation. To one side sits a woman, naked. She looks directly at the viewer, unabashed. Her leg is intertwined with the one man, who is barefoot. Fruit spills from its vessels. (How could that not be taken as an obvious symbol of post-coitus?) The other man holds a stick (a still erect phallus symbol?) Is he the third wheel? Is he hooked up with the other woman who is clothed, but bathing in the background? Is she washing up? Have they just had a little foursome forest frolic? The interpretations are open.
Today the painting is considered a masterpiece of 19th Century Art and hangs in the Musee d'Orsay in Paris.
This snapshot more than a century later may not be as classic, or as revolutionary in the world of art, but it is seemly just as random. Here a woman sits naked, and the man is fully dressed. There is a end of a bike in one corner. Was he riding by and stopped? Is he a stranger? If not, then hypothetically, the two came to the spot as a couple, then why is he totally dressed and she totally in the buff? And then-- who is taking the picture?
Isn't it the point of art --whether intentional masterwork or snapshot of an American Wife -- that it provokes more questions than provides answers.
Weather's Great, Wish you were here
Sometimes when we are far from the ones we love, it is nice to send celphone self snapshots. Sexy ones are always thoughtful. Even better, perhaps, are the unintentional sexy.
A slight peak of skin makes this shot slip from PG to PG-13. And that's just enough. Not all out, but a hint of the possible. Sometimes who were are is sexiest when we're not even trying to be sexy.