It’s when you monopolize the conversation when you are not even there.
Oh what a crazy two-week it had been.
But let’s not talk about that.
Recently some people apparently were shocked to find out (and could not resist gossiping afterwards) that I used to wear tudung (headscarf) when I was in highschool and college. And, they added in disgust, despite the fact that I was wearing tudung, my clothes back then had always been tight and obscene.
First of all, yes I wore tudung in highschool and in college. Get over it. It’s old news. To be clear, I wore it in highschool and in college. Literally. The moment I was a step out of school or college, I was back dressing the way I normally do. Yes, off with the tudung, on with the jeans cut-offs. In fact, the moment I was back in the dormitory I was back in tank tops and shorts. That’s who I am. I’m the girl who throws a white shirt over white shorts and then walk to the grocery store to buy eggs without bothering to change. Yes I was an opportunist. I used and abused the tudung. When I started working, I figured there was no need for me to continue with the duality anymore, so I stopped.
Now, you can criticize me all you want for using the tudung carelessly and not respecting what the tudung represents. Yes I was not wearing the tudung for pious reasons. It was because wearing one would make me less of a target for malicious gossiping and fishmongering, which I am sad to report, transcends highschool and college life. I did whatever I had to do to breeze through school in the least difficult way possible. Does that make me a poseur? When I was wearing the tudung I was. Let’s be honest here, would you respect me more if I wore one? Or would you gossip about me even more?
Yah, I figured as much.
Second of all, pick a side. You can’t hate me for not wearing tudung, and then hate me even more when I wear a tudung with my obscene clothes. Obviously the fact that I was not conventionally dressed the way one is expected to when one is wearing tudung was a clue that I wore the tudung under duress.
Third of all, why are you lot so fascinated with me? I don’t even talk about the people I hate or don’t care about. Ask around, many would be happy to vouch. I have been talking talking talking talking these past two weeks and trust me not once did I bother to say anything about the people that I left behind in that shitty workplace I was at. The Company wasn’t shitty, but the workplace? Oh absolutely. I don’t see the point talking about the people or the place that I have no affection for. Why do you? Turn the page, losers. There’s more to life than wondering about how I looked like in a tudung.
Wearing a tudung doesn’t make me a better or worse person. It is just an article of clothing, and a personal one at that. Stop obsessing about me.