Right to wear what I want…

She wore a white blouse. The blouse was plain in parts but had been made mottled with a blurred lace pattern where her bra was pressed against the silky material. It was like a virgin offering herself for sacrifice to the cutting stares and gawking of men. Somehow she promised something that was not meant to be seen yet was on display to all, a kind of threat: look and you will turn into a pillar of salt, don’t look and be safely on your way, knowing all along what you have fleetingly missed. The hypocrisy is too much and too obvious that it cannot be stated without the invocation of ‘rights to’; these ‘rights’ always trump and trample ‘rights from’, but it is unjustified: if you want to wear whatever you want and expect no judgement then I shall look at what I want and expect no judgement, besides I can’t look elsewhere until I have witnessed your selfish disrespect – in other words, cake and eat it!