Some early 20s jam was blasting in the car as I rode with my beloved cousin and his girlfriend, Miss O. We were headed to only God knows where but I really didn’t care. Even if I had begrudgingly dragged myself out of the bed (read cold floor where I’d passed the night because of heat) after Miss O called and demanded I got ready in thirty minutes, I was glad I wouldn’t have to stay home with no electricity or water. National grid has collapsed, again.🙄 I’ve simply lost count of how many times that has happened this year alone. Nigeria we hail thee!
My body needed more sleep, honestly. Especially after all the dancing I did last night at a lounge with at least 4 glasses of the most horrible whiskey I’ve tasted yet in my system. The cute DJ was playing songs from the early Wizkid days and I just couldn’t help myself. It felt good to be able to twist, whyne & twerk without having to hold my lower belly for fear of opening my incision site or wincing.
It’s worthy of mention that a certain sturdy gentleman offered to buy me a bottle of drink but I had have enough for the night and, there was still a bottle each of honeysuckle white wine and sweet rosè sitting in my refrigerator. Sweet soul, he wouldn’t take no for an answer so he asked a waiter to give me a bottle of cold water.
As a spinster that I am, I wanted to be introduced to the fellow. You never really know where and when you might meet The One. Innit?
But no, my cousin and his babe (bad belle couple, those ones) decided we had stayed out late enough! That’s not even remotely true because I have been out later than 1am with this same cousin of mine. Eish!
Anyway, I digress…
This blog post is not about my shenanigans. It’s about Saturday mornings and the women in my country.
That is the Saturdays that there are no events to attend.
There’s just something alluring about how effortlessly beautiful and unintentionally sexy Nigerian women look on Saturday mornings.
It’s in the various bum shorts, spaghetti, tube and monostrap rompers, maxi gowns, old ankara dresses, oversized T-shirts (mostly “taken” from the males in their life), the boxers/shorts, socks and palm slippers that are definitely not theirs.
It’s in the hair-nets now going into extinction courtesy the colourful satin bonnets. The braids on their head loosely packed in low ponytails. Relaxed hair rolled into doughnut or simply folded in two still with the very famous yellow rubber bands. The naturalistas leaving their 4b/4c hair to go wild in fros or old cornrows.
Eeerm… I’m not sure I’m allowed to say the things my fingers are about to type in the next few sentences but what the heck? This. Is. My. Blog.
Anyone else notice that little or no care is giving to brassieres by my kind on Saturday mornings? Still trying to decide if it’s something about the weekend and knowing you do not have to rush out of the house to get to work or prepare breakfast early. It could be the comfortability in waking up around people these women don’t have to “package” for i.e. family members or friends/partners after a late, sometimes wild, TGIF.
Perhaps it’s the laxity that Saturdays bring but whatever it is, I love that a large percentage of women care little about packing, lifting or pushing up their breasts.
Really, it’s refreshing and… (Searching for a word that won’t make y’all start questioning my sexuality, again) cool to watch those titties of different shapes and sizes dangle and bounce around in a much needed freedom as women sweep, clean, wash and walk around the house, compound, street or market.
Actually…
When I started drafting this blog post, I had laid emphasis only on the unmarried women in Nigeria because I thought they were more daring in wearing the unintentionally sexy Saturday morning outfits. However, as we drove further into town, I couldn’t help but notice different crops of women looking just as I’ve described. Preggos, teenage nursing mothers, young and old housewives, fine wines, aged, tomboys, straight and gay Nigerian women really, all with little care about their looks. And that, I promise you Stars, is one of the most beautiful things ever!
It’s like for once, women are in agreement with one another.
No competition. No desire to outshine another. No sizing up. No comparisons… Just sisters going about their chores without worrying about beauty standards.
If this were a movie scene, Beyonce’s I Woke Up Like This would definitely be my choice of background music.
I LOVE LOVE, LOVE IT!
So this is what you do with your Saturdays? I’d imagined yours was every other day. A tad off tangent but a friend had put up a post wanting to learn people’s perspectives about ‘heavy makeup’. Personally, I think there’s too much stress given to achieve such dandy appearance let alone the recreation of one it amounts to.
We all perform in one way or the other. What counts is who/what you are performing for and whether or not you’re comfortable doing it. But we all need that Saturday when we don’t give a fuck about this performative world.
Oh well… Don’t blame me, blame my ever-wandering mind.🤭
As a nudist that I am, you bet it is! No time abeg 😂
Some people genuinely enjoy this performance regardless of who the act is for, and that for me is very fine. It’s the amount of time and money, my gosh, that stresses me out. Honestly, I can’t imagine doing that every single day of my adult life.
Thank God for Saturdays 🤩
It’s the freedom the titties enjoy on Saturday mornings
For me
It’s the bestest thing ever! 😄
I loooooove Saturday mornings too. I’m always here for the beautiful looks.
I miss you and I’m happy to see you back here. ❤️
Thank you my love! 💖
Hahahahah im never on a bra in the house. My titties are always pointy and I love it. The fresh air is so cool and comfortable.
Saturday mornings are so refreshing. Big sized shirts, scruffy hair, leggings and socks😂😂😂
Oh. My. Goodness. Pure bliss 😃
This is beautiful. I’m motivated to work on my blog .
Oh, thank you plenty plenty. I’m glad this almost-abandoned Flowery World still motivates. ❤️✨
Cool