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Rhi Bowman

Student/ Writer

Rhi (pronounced Ree) B. is short for Rhiannon Bowman. Rhi B. is me. I’m a young woman– a newly wed, mother of two spoiled rotten cats and student– working hard to get out of college and on with the business of freelance writing. Trading money for words is a lifelong dream. After allowing...

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Catty Bitches

Rhi B., rhibowman.wordpress.com

I feel like my summer mantra is, “I am busy.” So, today, when I thought of an efficient use of gym clothing, I considered myself a brilliant time saver. Apparently, many of the women I walked past today thought otherwise.

First, I’m deep into the fourth week of my second mini-mester of the summer. That means I’m only two weeks away from my week long, and much needed, summer break. I have spent most of the summer following something close to this schedule:

• 6 a.m. alarm
• 7 a.m., arrive at University gym in time for the doors to be unlocked-- involves parking decks and a hike across campus
• 9:45 first class-- after workout, shower, another hike, breakfast in my car, and yet another (mostly up-stair) hike
• 11:30 second class-- yawn. Thank goodness one of my water bottles is full of semi-sweet Charleston tea.
• 1:00 shovel lunch, complete homework, research writing assignments, schedule and/or conduct interviews, meet/ correspond with editors, attempt to say on top of e-mail, blog, write-- oh, I love the days when I actually get to (really) write!
• Get home anywhere between 6 and 9:30 (The library closes at 9 after a series of fire alarm-like warning sirens).
• Spend time with Mr. Wonderful, feel guilty about forgetting to call Mom and Grandma-- again, finish up any last minute work and/ or studying, shovel dinner (that Mr. Wonderful shopped for and made-- one of the many reasons why he’s wonderful), watch the news (I am a journalism student, after all), pack lunches, waters, gym bag, back pack, etc..
• Pass out as soon as possible.

For most of the summer I've looked quite put together, thank you. I've made time to at least put on mascara, anyway. I've worn decent enough clothes and kept on top of every little thing.

This week, however, I don't have a single in-person interview scheduled and don't have anywhere to be immediately following class. So, I’ve given myself a break and given Mr. Wonderful and I a chance to spend some more time together. I have enjoyed a little more time to study for my two heavy-reading classes, ignored my makeup bag and have been meeting Mr. Wonderful at the gym after he gets off work. The extra time has been nice, but I’m still rushing.

Today, I got really efficient and decided to wear my gym clothes to class, still sans makeup. I forgot I had to go to a big-box store, the bank and the library afterwards-- not that it should matter.

No one in class noticed my attire, or said anything if they did, and Mr. Wonderful didn’t seem to care. But, the ladies I walked past everywhere else seemed to notice-- and they seemed to want me to notice them noticing my lack of style.

I got the look over. You know the one; I got the head-to-toe-to-head visual inspection. I failed. I was greeted with sneers and rolling eyes. I saw whispering and heard giggles. I think one woman even tisked me.

My good day dove into murky insecurity, then deeper into irritation and finally bottomed out in a pit of anger and resentment.

My response to the over-lookers? It wasn’t a lick better because I thought, “Catty bitches.” (And, I meant it.)

What’s wrong with us? Why do we participate in this type of nonsense? Who cares what other people are wearing, and more-- why do we care what other people think about what we’re wearing?