|The Indigo Girls|
WATCHING the wonderful Indigo Girls at the Cambridge Folk Festival, it came to me in a flash; stylistically, I am a lesbian. The evidence - hefty thighs encased in denim, flat boots, flyaway hair with no discernible style and a flannel shirt that could have come from a charity shop.
I am a friend of Dorothy from top to toe.
OK, so I have no desire to fondle a woman but when it comes to fashion I am definitely no man's arm candy and I'm not a cougar on the prowl chasing down her young prey in a short skirt, low top and thigh boots. If I approached my "prey" wearing that, he would leave Usain Bolt eating his dust.
The thought of wearing stilettos make my feet break out in a rash. I haven't got a figure for clothes to hug and I'm too frumpy for fashion. When it comes to clothes I'm more DJ Pat Pat than Portia de Rossi.
But I admire any woman who really doesn't give a damn when it comes to pleasing anyone but herself. I can get on board with that, straight or gay.
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