Classy B****

I've been reading a lot of historical romance novels recently. And before you get your judgmental hat on, it's not literary porn. I mean, there's really only so much sex you can write about basing a story in 19th century London. I enjoy reading about the ton, and the Season in London. I find it... fascinating... I guess. All the Lords and Dukes, Earls and Marquis -- first rate gentleman. And the rakes, of course. Now they make for the interesting sex bits. Most of the stories are about how the gentleman with the borderline rakish behavior (or vice versa) fall in love with the Lady and live happily ever after- with you know, what ever plot twists make things interesting. They go to balls, and the Ladies wear three dresses a day (morning dress, riding habit, and evening gowns). They drive with horse drawn carriages, or phaetons, or curricles. They call on people in the morning, with a butler to act as Caller ID. They may not be home to answer your call. They sit in drawing rooms and talk about... the weather. Literally. And whatever gossip currently drove the ton.

And oh the scandals! It's improper for an unmarried Lady to go anywhere by herself. It's improper for a Lady to be in a man's presence unchaperoned at all. Any amount of time spent unchaperoned with a man, could ruin a Lady. She could be shunned from ballrooms, drawing rooms, and without marriage prospects. She'd be forced to become a spinster. At 25 she'd be too old, already on the shelf, and she'd spend the rest of her life in the country, or any further Seasons in London sitting on the sidelines watching men in their 30s woo a 17-year-old chit.

And the conversation must have been captivating. What is there to talk about? Hair ribbons, and bows? Whose ball is the talk of the ton. What the weather would be like for the rest of the Season. It's not as if they did much else. There were, of course, business men, traders, and household staff, but no one tells stories from there point of view. I'm sure there isn't much known about them aside from how they served nobility. But the rules for them were different, you see, because a maid was not a Lady. Oh no, there are things a maid could do that a Lady could not.

For example, Ladies did not leave their rooms without being properly clothed. There was no slumping through the manor for breakfast in their pjs. They wore kidskin leather gloves, all. the. time. The anticipation of a man touching her bare hand was probably enough to make him come in his pants. Petticoats, corsets, stockings, hoops, chemise, garters-- so many layers to their ensemble, no wonder they needed help dressing. A bodice cut too low at the wrong function was means for gossip and could ruin her invitations for the rest of the Season. Her worth was measured by her parents' title, and her skill on the piano, or with her voice. A dukes daughter who couldn't do anything but stand there looking pretty, was a better marriage prospect than an earl's daughter who could sing and draw.

And for gentleman, there weren't many rules on the way they conducted themselves. But in the presence of a Lady, there could be no swearing, cursing, or any sort of generally unsuitable behavior. No lingering glances or touching. NO KISSING. No dancing more than one dance with the same girl. Two dances meant marriage was in mind, and three was too scandalous to discuss the meaning of that. When it comes to Ladies all that could be done is stare from afar, spend a few chaperoned moments together, and wax poetic about her beauty and grace.

A woman that is not a Lady, on the other hand. Well, all bets were off. They were the mistresses, the whores, the lightskirts, the courtesans. The women who knew the score, not the Ladies. Men could do with those women whatever they pleased, and those women knew something that the Ladies did not. Those women knew desire and passion. Harlots that they were, they knew that feeling low in their belly, the desire for a man. They got his passion. And sometimes, (not in the stories I read, mind you) his wife, the Lady that he married, only got his children.

Passion is not a dirty word. But it was then. A Lady was not passionate. Whores are passionate. Because no one ever talked about sex, how were they to know the way her body reacts in arousal. And wanting to be wanted by a man, and wanting him in return does not make you a harlot. It's so unfortunate, that because they don't know anything about sex or passion, they often mistook their desire for a man they loved as something bad. I find that more often than not I end up getting really pissed at the heroine, in these historical romances. She's just so...dumb. I skip ahead a few pages, thinking shut up you blithering idiot! I don't care what the Duchess of Somerset was wearing and I don't even want to read about it. And ironically, girls like me with their nose in a book were laughed at in polite society. A Lady flirts and simpers, she doesn't read. Not often at least, and nothing smart.

So when did things begin to change? And how did we get to this point? 200 years. Okay, so that's a bit of time, and there was that whole rebellion thing "No taxation without representation" *rolls eyes* ...whatever. But why is the norm now for women not to act like a lady. I'm not talking 15 layers of  clothes with the inability to hold a decent conversation because you're too busy giggling behind your fan. Nor am I thinking of some sort of restriction on what you can and cannot do based on gender. I'm referring to class. Even if you're not born wealthy, as a woman, a lady, you have to have some class.

Unfortunately, if everyone had class then it wouldn't make some people stick out. But I want my nieces, my younger cousins and eventually my own daughter to have class. If you act like a queen, and carry yourself like you're important (not snobbish) then people will treat you accordingly. That man hollering at you from down the block, he doesn't know how to speak to a lady. That approach may work for some girl, she may turn around and inquire, but not me. I know my value, it's not determined by the price of my clothes or even that I'm an excellent dancer. No, I am a lady. And I deserve to be treated as such. You don't have to hold my hand when I walk up the steps, I'm quite capable, you don't even have to open the door for me if I get there first. But you will not treat me as your personal play thing. I have a life with things to do. You will respect my person and my time. If you want the pleasure of my time, don't waste it. I have better things to do than sit around if I'm making time to see you. Take me to dinner, to a movie, to a play something that says you value the time I spend with you. Do not get nasty because you think you deserve more of me. Do not get flippant when I say I'm busy. and Do not tell me how you can help me with that pesky little Virginity problem I've still got. When I'm interested, I'll be sure to let you know.

I'm a Classy B**** And don't ever forget it.

the rest is still UNwritten