I am not a follower of fashion. Bikonu, this is not a dig/diss against all my designer, fashionista and model friends. I take God beg una (I beg you in the name of God) - especially the designers, when I come calling, thou shalt answer me favourably. Thank you. Now, back to my point. I am not a follower of fashion. It is one of the things that I dont really get. I have an instinct for what works on me. And I have eyes. I can see what I look like in the mirror. I also know whether I like what I see, or not. I also know that with a lot of things - yes, packaging is important - it is whats inside that counts. For instance, when Naomi Campbell walks a runway, I doubt that anyones really looking at the clothes - no matter how incredible they are. They are looking at what whos inside the clothes. If it was (only) about the clothes, every woman would be a model. And every model would be a supermodel. Thats why designers want to work with the Naomi Campbells, the Coco Rochas, the Cara Delevignes and the Jourdan Dunns. Thats why there is only one Kate Moss. Designers know women will see the clothes, want to look like these PEOPLE and ... voilà! When these women take off those clothes, they remain who they are. The clothes dont make them. And its not because the designers arent talented. They are. Josephs coat was taken off (not once, but) TWICE. The first coat was the coat of many colours. That one that singled him out as daddys favourite boy. The constant reminder that our daddy loved your mummy more than he loved ours, and hes not even trying to hide it. The mark of the tattle-tale, tale-bearing, dreamer with grandiose aspirations. The coat of the boy who is so egotistical that he believes he is more than he is. When his brothers showed the torn, blood-soaked remnants of the coat to their father, they didnt actually tell him anything. He just came to the conclusion they hoped he would come to. It was ... pretty clear evidence of something that didnt actually happen, but looked like it had. And the owner of the coat wasnt actually there to give his own version of events - which was part of the point ... The second time, it was in a strange land. Where the beautiful wife of his master, Potiphar offered herself up as a willing sacrifice. I know Potiphars wife was beautiful. Honestly, it is common sense. How many powerful or influential men have ugly wives? And please, forget that thing of I was attracted to her because of her good heart, fine character and soft-spoken nature. Anyway, so Mrs I-want-what-I-want-when-I-want-how-I-want-and-will-not-be-rejected-by-a-mere-slave took the second coat. Cried and showed it to her husband. (No, I wasnt there, but no woman has dry eyes while telling the man she knows loves her, that someone hurt her). Again, Joseph wasnt there to defend himself. Potiphar took one look at his distraught wife and his anger boiled over at the sight of the ... pretty clear evidence of something that didnt actually happen, but looked like it had. To be fair, I dont know any man who wont see red if the woman he loves tells him that she was attacked ... by a house-boy. Its actually a miracle that Joseph was not killed - after his coat condemned him TWICE. His brothers claiming not want blood on their hands ... erm ... OK, whatever. (You should have thought of that before you dumped him in a pit). But an alleged rapist attacking his masters wife - he was a mere slave. An elevated one, but a slave nonetheless. A slave is still a slave. If Potiphar had had Joseph executed immediately (which I think is what Potiphars wife wanted), he would have lost nothing. Your position, title, reputation, whatever else that people who dont know you, use to define you is a COAT. Nothing more. You may have worked for it. It might have been given to you because of who you know. It might be the thing that is used to prove a non-existent crime against you. It is a COAT. People can think they know you because of what your coat looks like - even with the blood that others have put on it - but you are not your coat. Clothes do NOT make a person. That is why they say clean a pig and stick it in a suit, it is still a pig. You are not your salary. Or your title. Or your reputation. Or the official car that was seen somewhere it shouldnt have been during office hours - because someone borrowed it without your permission - which led your bosses to believe that you were skiving, so they fired you without hearing you out. Or they gave you a chance to defend yourself, but even you were so impressed at the set-up that you actually kept quiet when you saw the ... evidence. Your coat. Your forged signature on the cheques, which helped others embezzle money. Your debit/credit card statement, which kinda makes it look like you did something you dont even understand. Your photographs - redone in such a way that even you are wow-ed by the Photoshop. But your fiancé isnt so impressed with the story that the pictures are telling. Your lipstick, which your best friend borrowed - and now your husband thinks youre sleeping with a man youve never even met. Your coat. I can imagine that when Joseph was eventually freed and promoted by Pharaoh, that Potiphar was there at the swearing-in ceremony (or whatever they had, then). I can imagine that Potiphars wife was there. I can imagine that Joseph was thinking, Thank you, God of my father, Jacob, that I did not sleep with that woman. And I can also imagine Potiphars wife thinking, Dammit! Why didnt I sleep with this man? I could have sold a story about our affair, today. Yes, I would have lost my life selling the story, but still. Look at his shiny new coat that was probably tailor-made for him. Oh crap, why oh why didnt I sleep with him? #YouAreNotYourCoat
Posted on: Tue, 20 May 2014 10:07:11 +0000
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