I’ve long considered the collarbone one of the sexiest areas of a woman’s body.
Make no mistake, I’m a straight girl who is not sexually attracted to other women, but, being a girl, I know how to identify what is attractive on a woman and which women are attractive. This special power of discernment, this super-girl power is quite simple: envy.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, my collarbone is thick and sturdy, while other women’s are delicate and dainty. I always liked the idea of being delicate, of being precise and graceful. Not fragile but…well, small. Thin. Attractive.
In my pre-teen years of reading soapy romance novels (that usually never went beyond sweet, stars-above-us, romantic, everyone-has-pure-and-noble-thoughts kissing) (yes, I read them, I admit), I remember one specific scene. I can’t tell you the book or the characters’ names or even the basic plot, but for some reason the scene has stuck with me. The guy and girl were in the bleachers (where all high schoolers sing about summer lovin’), and he asked her where was the best place to be kissed. After some thought and timid hesitation, she pointed to the hollow between her neck and her collarbone and said, “Right here.”
Those sappy teen romances are, no doubt, contributions to my (continuing) false idealization of love and relationships, it’s true. But that scene in that forgettable book stayed in my memory because I so thoroughly believed it and agreed with that girl. The delicate clavicle, especially one adorned by the finest gold chain, a tiny diamond or heart pennant resting in that little hollow – that represents femininity to me. At least, that’s how I wanted to be viewed – with a pretty bone structure and pretty skin that deserves a pretty kiss.
In losing weight, the first surfacing of my collarbone is so exciting to me. So often, I feel that my layers of fat and ill health not only strip me of attractiveness and delicacy but of femininity and sexuality; I feel that my size has made me asexual in the eyes of others (well, men). Objectively, I understand that there is no one ideal of femininity, sexuality, beauty, etc., but subjectively, my visible collarbone makes me feel more attractive. I’ve stood before the mirror, trying out poses that will make my clavicle stick out more without looking as though I’m hunching my shoulders like Quasimodo. I’ve used it in pictures, too; my collarbone is now an integral part of my new driver’s license thanks to these carefully honed techniques.
Now I just need to find a fella to kiss it.