Ladylike
By: Leah Sicat
Sitting in a downtown Gwangju coffee shop alone
Sipping an Americano
Reading Foucault
Pondering biopolitics
How the many spirals of power flow
While, from the other end of the room,
The faint scent of cigarettes
Contraband
floats
And the whir of the fan hums
From inside the closed bathroom door
Sitting at nearby square wooden tables
Young ladies with shoulder-length perms
Blunt-cut bangs
Long, straight hair like black curtains
Across their backs
Fingers patting hairbows in place
While peering into mirrored powder compacts
Meticulously outfitted in black
Commanding the quick stride of 4-inch gladiator heels
Balancing the standard 45 kilograms
Flitting across wood floors
Ready for raindrops on stone sidewalks
Leaning back in my chair
Wondering how fashion and conformity reflect capitalism and patriarchy
Contrived Coy Girl standards of beauty
Fitting in not standing out
Blending in to not get pushed down
Closing the door when lighting up
More than just clothes, skin color, cigarettes, slimness, hair, and makeup
Disciplined
Not crossing borders formed by
The “Female” gender box
Stepping back
Realizing how I normally wouldn’t dress this way
But that I have
In my own routine
Normalized
The pressed powder on my brown skin
The purple ribbon
Pinned on my pulled-up, pulled-back hair
The dark tights under my belted dress
With the ruffled short sleeves
And pink flower-print hem
Disciplined
Little girl or tiny woman
Life-size doll manufactured image
But the question is:
To be beautiful, or safe in my own skin?
Opting instead to pick and choose battles
My survival strategy for the time being
Preventing questions and stares
Striking the match
Watching the smoke
Inhaling fresh air
Before others come near
Locking the door closed
Averting my eyes
Standing up to adjust my dress
Glancing behind me
The bathroom door is still latched and red
With the word “occupied”.
Reflections Told 