Body in Mind: The girl next door goes to town

PHOTOS by Chris Rügge

ADDED May 5, 2003 © BODY in MIND

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May 5, 2003.

The girl next door goes to town

by Lеаnnе Bеll

Our latest gallery from Chris Rügge features Vivien demonstrating exactly the way men wished women would be. What better to accompany it than a piece of fiction by Leanne demonstrating exactly the way women wished women would be!

It was one of the hottest days on record, and the beachside café where I'd stopped to sit under an umbrella with a cool drink was quickly filling up with afternoon sun worshippers. This part of Toronto, with it's long boardwalk and cool lake breezes was a popular spot on days like today, as was this little open air restaurant, not twenty feet from the water's edge. I was about to leave when I spotted her, perhaps the most flawless woman I'd ever seen, sitting a few tables away with her arm resting casually on the wrought iron railing that separated the café from the boardwalk.
She was voluptuous, like a modern day Mаrіlyn Mоnrое, but it was what she was wearing that made the image complete. Her jeans were a faded dark blue, and on top she wore a crocheted yellow bikini top that was perhaps a size too small for her ample endowment. Instead of looking like a cheesy late night infomercial girl, it served instead to merely accentuate the perfect curves of her breasts and illuminate her softly tanned skin. She had chosen this look with care, that much was obvious. Around her neck was a beautiful beaded necklace that matched the colour of her eyes, and when she reached for a glass of water a little beaded bracelet slid down her arm slightly and then back to her wrist as she moved. She had gone to great effort to appear effortlessly beautiful, and it had worked. A warm summer wind breezed through her blond hair every so often, sending a curled tendril floating against her shoulder or down into the hollow between her breasts, and as she talked with her companion - her husband maybe, or a close friend - she laughed, revealing a joyous, playful smile that would have intoxicated everyone around her.
I enjoyed watching her, wondering at the marvel of genetics that could make us, both women, look so different. I didn't feel threatened by her, or jealous of her - somehow those emotions seemed such an inappropriate way to respond to the sight of someone so happy, so blessed by nature and so ideally formed.

I saw the waiter hesitate as he approached her, and from his body language I could tell he wasn't about to take her order. She turned her pretty face up to him as he cleared his throat, her eyes still shining from the pleasure of the conversation she'd been having.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the waiter leaned down discreetly. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we have received a complaint."
"Oh, am I talking too loud?" she bit her lip in playful anxiety.
"No, ma'am, one of the other patrons has, well, she has her children here, and she expressed some concern..."
"About what?"

The waiter looked as though an earthquake would be welcome right about now. "Well, you know," he scoffed, trying to appear good natured. "It's just that your clothing is a little too..."
Even from where I was sitting I could see her eyes sharpen. "A little too what?"
The waiter looked around for help, and finding none, he again cleared his throat. "Frankly, ma'am, your outfit is a little too revealing for a family restaurant."
The lady's male companion started to say something, but she silenced him gently with a wave of her hand. She looked directly at the waiter.
"Who complained? Show me."
"I'm sorry ma'am, I can't do that."
"She can complain about me and I can't even get a look at her? Suppose I want to complain that she's too frumpy to be in a family restaurant?"
"Ma'am, please." He pleaded, aware that all of us in his section - his source of tips - were now watching him. "Would you please consider changing?"
She paused, and devilment sparkled in her eyes. "Why certainly." She said. "I'd be happy to. You're right, this top isn't appropriate for a family restaurant."
The waiter looked enormously relieved. Until the lady stood up, reached around behind her and unfastened the straps of her bikini top. She dropped it from her neck and stood topless, arching her back to further accentuate her glorious breasts.

It should have appeared shocking, or at least unusual, to see a half naked woman out in public, but somehow she made it appear natural. With her jewelry adorning her neck, with the faded jeans and the beaded sandals, she somehow looked better dressed than anyone else here. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and brushed past the flabbergasted waiter and began to stroll around the tables, smiling and nodding at each customer. All eyes watched her move, sashaying her hips and letting her breasts bounce slightly as she paused at each table and asked people how they were enjoying their meal.
A tidal wave could have hit the beach at that moment, no one would have noticed. Forkfulls of food were frozen in mid air on the way to open mouths, glasses of beer were pressed against hot foreheads and no one, not even one person, made a sound. She wound her way through the entire restaurant before returning to her table, where turned around to address everyone.
"Now, who has a complaint?" she demanded, arms upraised, and turned around slowly to show off the rest of her magnificent body. "Please, come forward if you find anything wrong with the female body, anything at all."
I was beside myself with delight. Here was my new hero, proudly showing off her body and defying anyone to find a problem with it. Somehow I could sense that there were those who wanted to say something mean and vile, but who censored themselves with the knowledge that doing so would reveal more about themselves than she had done.
She looked everyone in the eye, giving every single person a chance to speak. At length she picked up her top and grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. "That's more like it." She said. "Remember this the next time you complain about a woman's body."
And with that she and her companion left the restaurant. A murmur of outraged whispers erupted as soon as they hit the boardwalk, but I intentionally tuned them out, not wanting their ignorance to cloud what had been one of the most inspiring moments of my life. I watched her walk casually down the boardwalk, topless, fearless, and in every sense the way a woman ought to be.