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1
Harlow
I stretch out across my queen-sized bed, dangling my bare feet over the edge of the mattress. A hot breeze blows in through the open window somehow making things even warmer, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. Lazily, I flip through a magazine and a pang strikes my heart because dang it, it’s yet another hot model with a huge, round bubble butt. She’s literally wearing leggings that have the seam that goes down her crack, emphasizing the curvature of her ass. Judging from the sly smile on her face, she loves how it feels too, wedgie or not.
“Will you look at this?” I whine, waving the mag at my friend Ramona. “This is so unfair!”
My friend’s not really listening. Instead, she sips on her lemonade while staring at a magazine of her own.
“Do you think I could pull off bangs?” she mutters while staring at a model on the page who is very “French girl” looking. She then flips the tail ends of her hair over her forehead, mimicking the model in the picture. “What do you think?”
I giggle a little. “Well, you definitely look better than her, but seriously, are you into that French girl stuff? It’s so passé.”
Ramona stares at me. She’s from Chicago, and only here for the summer, so she kind of worships the ground I work on, seeing that I’m a native New Yorker.
“How can French style be passé?” she stammers. “I thought French-girl style was eternal.”
I shrug.
“It is because you know the image of French girls is always young, thin, white, cis, with brown bangs, red lipstick, and a beret tipped jauntily on their head. But these days, Paris is so cosmopolitan and it doesn’t reflect real life anymore. People are really pushing against that stereotype and want to expand the definition of your typical ‘French girl’ look.”
“Oh I see,” Ramona nods, looking down wide-eyed at the magazine spread. “Goodness, I had no idea.”
My friend is the sweetest thing, and I lean in conspiratorially.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’d definitely look better than she does with bangs,” I tell Ramona. “But I wouldn’t do anything too drastic. Maybe try some layers first or something,” I add in an airy tone. “Curtain bangs, maybe? They’re the latest thing.”
Ramona giggles. “Girl, please. My whole summer is one drastic move after another so curtain bangs are not enough. But thanks for tipping me off. Who would have guessed about that French thing?”
I nod and sit up a little, my body feeling sticky from lying against the warm duvet. “Sure, no prob. But what do you mean about drastic? What’s so drastic that’s going on? I mean, of course we’re hostesses at a secret sex club, but … well, yeah, I guess that’s pretty drastic.”
