Perspective on style

As an independent escort, I’ve noticed that many clients expect a certain level of glamour and extravagance from me. But I’ve never been interested in dressing as if I belonged on a stage. Uber-cleavage, skyscraper heels, clothes I can’t breath in… they don’t feel like me. My style is quieter, pared back. A silk dress that feels like skin, a bias-cut skirt that catches the light when I move, barely-there makeup that still manages to sharpen my features. I like clothes that work with me, not against me.

When I’ve tried the heavier hand; full makeup, an outfit chosen for affect rather than my pleasure, I’ve felt more disguised than revealed. It’s not that I won’t ever dress up; I do, but always on my own terms. A touch of mascara, skin that still looks like skin, fabrics that skim and invite touch. Small changes that heighten without erasing.

Part of this is practicality. I hate shopping, so I keep a capsule wardrobe of pieces I actually love: quality materials, precise cuts, nothing disposable. Fewer choices make life easier, and I’d rather invest in things that last than accumulate piles of clothes I’ll never wear. The same with money, another silk blouse I don’t need has less pull on me than a bottle of twenty-year tawny port, or a day spent somewhere new.

But simplicity isn’t just efficient; it’s attractive. Minimal doesn’t mean dull, it means focused. A well-chosen outfit lets the eye rest where it should. People I spend time with notice quickly, there’s no mask, no fuss, just a kind of confidence that reads without effort. Discretion is built in; I don’t look like I’m in costume, which makes it easier for both of us to relax.

There’s plenty of pressure, culturally, to look perfected, as if we should present ourselves as polished products. My refusal is modest: I don’t play. My style is consistent with who I am, and that consistency carries its own allure. I know how to walk into a room looking striking without looking staged, and that’s a balance I like.

It works. The wardrobe is small, but it’s deliberate. Clothes that feel good, that move beautifully, that don’t steal focus but don’t fade either. It’s not anti-glamour; it’s my kind of glamour. Quiet, modern, real.

 
 
 
Previous
Previous

Vitalness of touch