I realized that Cary doesn't eat anything fried. Fast food restaurants were permanently banned from our dining options. She however, over indulges on chilli. I wondered if that was how she remained so slim. And lucky for me, I too was a fan of spicy food, which made our menu choices easier. Her first piece of advice came on really randomly whilst we were chilling at a bar at Clark Quay after my work.
Cary was wearing a slinky white flutter sleeved dress, her fantastic bosom stuffed nicely through the stretchy lycra creating traffic-stopping cleavage that was sexy, but not overwhelming. Her outfit was completed with gold bangles and her cat eyes made smoky with shades of brown and gold glitter. I felt like a wallflower, nonetheless, but I did not mind, having gotten used to that feeling since my days around Wendy.
Through our 3rd martini, a couple walked by, hands interlocked and whispering sweet nothings. Just as they both turned and caught a glimpse of Cary, it wasn't just the man, but also the woman who took a double,triple take. Their eyes wandered from her head to toe, and up again. It was hard to tell what the woman was feeling when she looked up and caught her partner admiring Cary, but I could tell that the man was very much smitten. As though guided by an invisible force, the man let go of the woman's hand. Seething with displeasure, the woman stomped off ahead. Soon as the man realized he was out of peripheral vision, he chased after his lover, and attempted to hold her hand again.
Cary was aware of the attention she received, and she giggled alittle when she noticed that I was observing the way the couple had reacted. That was when she spoke, her voice serious and convincing,
"To be truly attractive, you have to be lusted for not only by men, but also women. What separates a vixen from a true Aphrodite is just the difference in mentality. You cannot stop women from feeling jealous or dislike, but you can make them fall in love with you, wishing not to be like you, but to be able to make love to you. That is the epitome of attractiveness." Her statement was repleted with tough Chinese words, but I managed to understand what she meant.
It was eloquently phrased, but "women making love to you" seemed just alittle weird. However, after putting some thought into it, the statement actually made perfect sense. It was easy for me to imagine doing nasty things to Cary, though thinking of that seemed inappropriate. Just like how the Chinese may use unorthodox methods that are controversial from the modern and scientific ways, the methods achieve the same, or better results. I guess its all about perspective.
Cary smiled behind her glass of Mojito, her slender fingers wrapped gracefully around the glass, her pinky stuck out in the most refined manner.
"Since it is your off days for tomorrow and the day after, i'm thinking of going to a club. Do you know of any good ones?" Cary questioned, the tone in her voice hinting she was not asking, but expecting my company.
"I guess we can try Powerhouse. I heard colleagues talking about it." Back in those days, St James Powerhouse was one of the hotter nightclubs out in Singapore. I gulped down the remainder of my martini, and tickled the lychees left in the glass with my straw.
My classmate brought me to an underage party once when we were in our secondary school, her brother was the "runner" for the club and needed support. Runners are people who are hired to sell the entrance tickets. It was rowdy and sticky inside, with rambunctious gangsters cat-calling their gang codes. But I enjoyed the reverberating music, the beats kicking up in my system, channeling emancipation of my usual solemn body.
Cary nodded in delight before calling for the bill. It was always her treat. I gave up wanting to go on dutch after her repeated refusal to take my money. "I have enough. You save it for yourself." was what she always said in a stern and almost commanding tone, her tiny palm pressed against the dollar bills.
I couldn't wait for Powerhouse. Just as I was rummaging through my scarce wardrobe, Cary appeared at the door, a hanger hooked onto her index finger. It was a beautiful dress from Guess in a shade of deep plum. Soft mesh layered in ruches, strategically creased at the lower half to conceal any unsightly belly bulge. The straps ran in a tank-top fashion, forming a sweetheart neckline at the center, completed with a concealed side zip on the left. My lips parted in surprise as Cary wiggled her finger, making the dress shiver on its hanger, wanting to be put on.
"This will definitely be your size. And you will look good in it." Cary assured, sticking out her arm, pushing the dress into my embrace. "Take your shower... I will fix your make up later." She smiled, adjusting the towel wrapped around her body with her hands. As she took her leave, I spent the next few moments feeling the soft fabric of the dress on my fingertips. It was so delicate, so pretty.
In the toilet, I stripped and looked into the mirror. I was blessed to have dad's lanky genes, the only good thing, i guess, that I had gotten from him. My tummy was almost non-existent, my arms subtly toned, thanks to the hours i toiled at the restaurant, running around like a maniac with plates that weighed like rocks.
Getting into the dress was no hassle as it fit like a glove, hugging my lean frame, and enhancing my ample ass to the T. I gazed into the mirror and was pretty astonished to see what was staring back. I did not dare to look further up though, for I knew no pretty dress could soften my unattractive face. I was contented with just staring from the chin and below, admiring myself from all angles. Then there was a knock on my door, and in came Cary who was all dressed up.
I've never seen her looked any much lovelier. She donned an electric blue bustier dress which had its sweetheart neckline dotted with jewel embellishments. Her breasts looked soft and milky juxtapose the bright blue, and her hair was evenly teased at the ends, giving the long straight strands volume and shine. A silver necklace with her name in sterling silver crowned her bony decolletage. Her eyes sparkled with lids clad in silver shimmer, and looked doll like with Japanese style fake eyelashes.
I said honestly "You look so pretty, Cary. I wish I had looks too." I looked away, not wanting her to feel as though my gaze was going to devour her whole. Cary frowned, her lips formed an adorable pout. "Don't you dare say that about yourself. No woman is ugly. You become beautiful as long as you believe you are, and that you can be." Cary pulled me to her room and sat me down in front of her dresser. The entire table surface was cluttered with various bottles, gels and kaleidoscopic make-up colors in pots, tins and palettes.
"Now, close your eyes, Violette, and just relax." Cary cooed as I followed obediently. I can hear her fingers working expertly, selecting brushes and singling out different shadows and lipsticks. A cotton pad was swiped across my face, the toner leaving a fresh sting with its anti bacterial agent. "I am guessing you haven't tried double eyelid tape" Cary continued, her pinky lightly touching my eyelids.
"Nope, I haven't. What's that?"
"You have very loose eyelids, it means that you can actually have natural double eyelids without going for surgery. You just have to make indentation, applying pressure and seasoning the lids with the use of the tape, and soon, you will have natural double eyelids without the help of the tape." I felt the nub of a plastic stick going across my eyelids. It did not hurt, but there was pressure.
The next few minutes passed with liquids, gels and what-nots of different textures and smells applied on my face, swept, brushed, dabbed, drew and smudged. Finally, Cary sprayed my face with a refreshing Spring water Spritz and I knew it was complete. I raised my eyelids alittle, squinting ahead. My mascara tinted eyelashes formed a rich velvet black curtain, as though reeling up to the audience ahead of me. I opened my eyes fully, and could barely recognize who was in the mirror.
I couldn't believe my eyes, literally. I reached for my cheek, my left hand trembling as I touched my face deftly, as though my face was a porcelain mask I was afraid to shatter. The double eyelid tape held miraculously, giving my eyes an instant perk. Contrary to my fear of how uncomfortable the tape may feel, it felt lightweight and barely existent, as though it was formed that way.
My cheeks glowed in perfect bronze, complimenting the smooth nude color of the lipstick that brought out the fullness of my pout, making them look so kissable. My hair was artfully blown and lightly curled, combed to the left and held with a gentle spray. The metallic green eyeliner was drawn proportionately, accentuating the contour of my eyes. The grunge green brought out the honey in my brown eyes and the colors were so impeccably matched that it was poetic.
I broke out of the daze and let out a soft gasp. For the first time, I felt... beautiful. Cary smiled and patted my shoulder, saying "I don't make friends with ugly girls, so remember, you are going to be my best friend in Singapore!" She flipped through her drawer, and pulled out a pink perfume bottle. It was from Versace. She spritz it on me and with an excited clap, she exclaimed "Its time to go!!!" We left her room, and I sneaked into my room to grab my shabby black clutch bag before joining Cary again, who had a bounce in her steps.
Cary put on strappy silver heels that looked tramp-y, but it transformed into something glamorous the minute she had them on. I thought of how long and how hard I have to try to get that kind of aura and secretly felt crestfallen. I doubt I can ever attain that level. I took out my pair of black heels, it was the only pair I have and I was glad black was versatile enough to match my outfit and not land me a date with the fashion police. Made entirely of suede on the exterior, it was an open-toed design standing at 3" high. And we were ready to go.
I flashed my IC confidently at the bouncer guarding the entrance, feeling smug that I no longer had to be scrutinized and treated like a small kid. He let me in with a smile on his face that almost made me blush. But something inside took over me, and I gave him a wink with a smirk across my lips instead of my usual awkward smile. His toffee eyes never left me until I disappeared through the towering curtains behind those ornate doors. Cary grabbed my hand and walked towards the locker area, where it was quieter.
"Are you excited?" Cary asked, her hips swaying to the beat of the music.
"Yes. Very!" I replied, my heart already lost in a rhythmic choreography with the DJ.
"Now, I will be showing you, how to know which table of men you have to go to. This is very important, because we all want men who have spending power."
"Huh?" I was plain surprised as Cary had enough money to buy at least 5 tables.
"Now, Violette, a real lady has money and dignity to buy her own drinks, but what men are paying for, is a bid to get her attention, not impression." Cary spoke wisely.
I nodded, and momentarily got thoroughly absorbed by how powerful her sentence was. Hand in hand, we trotted off to the tables, creating quite a storm. The same vibe inside me took over again, crossing my legs daintily over each other as I walked, my back arched back with a flow in my walk. Standing in the middle of a cluster of tables, I felt all eyes on Cary, and then... lingering on me. Cary nudged my hand with a surreptitious smile.
At that moment, I realized my life was going to change forever, with the friendship of the girl named Cary.
lesson 4: Judge a man not by what he has, but what he's willing to give to you.
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