[EN] Ep.4｜Body or Face？
From My Closet To You
〜Narrative essays, weaving fashion and heart〜
*This piece is intended for mature readers. Some parts of the story contain sensual descriptions.
1. The Me, Unknown to Myself
One summer day. Cicadas droned outside. I was at a personal styling salon. With my birthday approaching, I had chosen “body type analysis” and “face type analysis” as a gift to myself. The woman assisting me gently shared the results. “Your body type is Natural, and your face type is Feminine.” She continued, “You have a stylish frame and a feminine face. That combination makes such a dazzling impression.” The consultant smiled. “Huh?” Before I knew it, I was frowning. She was talking about me…wasn’t she?—But…really me?—
2. The Me, Known to Myself
Leaving the salon, I stepped into a café. With an iced tea in hand, I begin to think. “Stylish”? “Feminine”? No one had ever said that about me. I had never felt that way myself. Yes…My frame is heavyset, my face is boyish. Not dazzling, more of a cool look. Of course, edgy styles suit me, and I like them. But why is that? When did that image of me start to settle in? The sunlight through the window is too bright. So I close my eyes. The memories are coming back to life―
3. The Body, and That Man Ⅰ
One distant autumn day. Winter was just around the corner, and the air had turned cold. I met him at a party. In the middle of all the chatter, we hardly talked to each other. He was a little taller than me. A rugged face with memorable, trimmed stubble. After the gathering ended and everyone had gone, he got in touch and asked me out. “Let’s grab food on our next day off.” Concise and straightforward―it was good. His words were, "I like that you’re not slim. But then you still try to act all cool. Quite the contrast, ha.” Complimenting while sneering…It was how he kept score.
4. The Body, and That Man II
His place. Ground floor of an old apartment building. A motorcycle parked just outside the door. It was a spacious one-room flat. A kitchen stood just inside the entrance, with the living area beyond. “It’s cold, come in,” he said, turning on the heater. I nodded, stepped inside, and sat down on the sofa. He came closer, pulled me in by the waist. The second our eyes meet, he presses his lips to mine. Heat upon heat, mixing together—strong, then soft. A breath escapes in a sigh. I hear his voice by my ear, "I'm buzzin'. Honestly, even more than I expected. You’re so awesome, aren’t you?”
5. The Face, and That Man Ⅰ
One distant spring day. Winter was lingering, yet the air had begun to turn warm. I met him at a seminar. In the crowd, he came over and spoke to me. He was much taller than me. A well-proportioned face with memorable, slightly youthful features. After I returned home, he got in touch and asked me out. “Hey, wanna catch a movie sometime?” Kansai accent and lightness―it was good. His words were, “You’re not bubbly and cute. But you’ve got an androgynous vibe, kinda brooding. Your face is my type, yeah.” Complimenting while boasting…It was how he kept score.
6. The Face, and That Man II
A hotel. Middle floor of a neat-looking building. Houseplants lined the indoor hallway. It was not a spacious room. A double bed stood, with a desk and TV behind it, near the window. “Not bad, right?” he said, taking off his jacket. I nodded, stepped inside, and sat down at the edge of the bed. The second I looked up, his face was already close. Our lips meet. Heat with heat, mixing together—soft, then strong. A breath escapes in a sigh. I hear his voice from above, “Lemme see more of that face, huh? Right, looks damn good.”
7. The Self, I’ve Created
The chill of the café’s air pulled me back to the present. Those were distant days, the memories wrapped in nostalgia. I wonder what “we” were seeing? They must have believed they were seeing right through me. But what if it was nothing more than a false image—a “phantom of myself,” created by my own unconscious?…Then who was truly seeing through whom? What was it that the one wanted to show? Without realizing it, I may have created another version of myself and felt a quiet rapture at the figure seen through their eyes. Yet it is no different from gazing into a distorted mirror―I still don’t know myself.
8. The Self, I’ll Create
Leaving the café, I go shopping. The store is lined with early autumn pieces. An ivory blouse catches my eye, frills running straight down from the high neckline. Simple but sweet. Something I’ve never chosen before. Still not used to “Feminine,” so I add slacks to keep it “Stylish.” In that moment, a question comes to mind. What's good about me, body or face?—Neither. “No.” All of me is good! Stepping out of the store, I'm wrapped up in the summer heat—Today, my new birthday—
Fin (Ep.4 Body or Face？)
© Hilda Tutu. All rights reserved.
◆Related Content
▷ Ep.4 Aterword –Hilda's Voice– ◁
▷ [Reel] Ep.4 Piece Guide ◁
▷ Ep.4 Reading Fashion
―How to Wear a Frilled Blouse― ◁
▷ Japanese Version ◁
◆Series, Fashion & the Author
▷ About “From My Closet To You” ◁
▷ List of Available Pieces (Stand-Alone Episodes) ◁
▷ Fashion Writing ◁
▷ About the Author ◁
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