My Secret Desires

Lust Behind the Modest Denim Curtain

by Arietty


During my most deepest, holiest, quivering before God years I would sometimes find my Christian Womanhood alarmingly infiltrated by admirations that were NOT the admirations of a woman whose price was “above rubies”. These admirations stood in stark contrast to my floral blouses and the verses in cross stitch I had displayed on the walls of my home and to the Christian women whose example I wished to emulate. I knew they were wrong, dubious at best and not something I would ever admit to. They were like chocolates hidden in the underwear drawer of a dieter. I knew they were there and I had no intention of throwing them away and every now and then I would have just one..

Bette Midler. I adored Bette Midler. My husband had been coming home later and later throughout our marriage and one day it occurred to me that there was really no good reason to be upset about this–life was completely oppressive when he was there. He eventually was never home before 10pm and frequently much later (what he was doing I have no idea as his work day ended at 5pm). One thing I loved to do in his absence once the children were in bed was watch television. At my most depressed I would watch anything for the numbing effect but I did find myself looking out for certain guilty pleasures and any movie with Bette Midler was one of them. Bette Midler was LOUD. She was brash. She dressed in gaudy, ridiculous, happy clothes. She was very funny and deliciously self-deprecating. My husband hated her guts. There seemed to be regular Bette Midler movies on television and I always came away from one refreshed and depressed.. because it touched on a part of me that I could not express. I secretly wanted to live like Bette Midler did. Grandly, loudly, vividly with no meek and quiet spirit in sight.

Doc Martens. I became aware of these in the 80’s and I immediately fell in love with them. Whenever I was out and would see some goth girl in black velvet and Doc Martens I would be filled with wistfulness.. I wanted to be a person who wore Doc Martens. They made me happy just to look at them. One day in a doctor’s office I found a magazine with a fashion puff piece about wearing them and surreptitiously ripped it out, took it home and hid it in box labeled SIZE 4-5 WINTER DRESSES. I used to take it out and look at it every now and then. I knew if I had not chosen this Godly life I would have been living in a big city and wearing Doc Martens.

The Epicure Guide in the newspaper. The Epicure Guide was all about people who went to funky cafes and had pesto and other exotic dishes and drank beautiful coffee while discussing art, music and ideas. They employed sparkling wit and no one ever pursed their lips in disapproval or talked about “the tongue” in Proverbs. Absolutely no food item featured in The Epicure Guide was suitable for cooking in huge pots and storing in gallon freezer bags as part of the Once a Month Cooking plan. I wanted to be one of those people. The closest I ever got was when I managed to read a courtesy copy of Time magazine over a cup of coffee at MacDonalds with the kids in the playground. I could sip my coffee and read about movies I would never see and place I would never visit.

Shh! Those were some of my secret desires. Don’t tell Nancy Campbell!

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