a question of flirtation
the domestic minx
29 Comments
I can still see his eyes. Dark and mysterious, they held mine for just a moment as my taxi pulled away from Hotel de L'Odeon in Paris. I knew him not, but with bags packed and destiny taking us in two different directions, his question was left hanging like a murmured breath in the morning air. What if?
I smile at the memory of a beautiful woman waiting our table in Santorini who held my hand and slowly ran her finger down the length of my thumb as I counted out change for a glass of wine.
Ah, the lingering looks of the glass blower in Antalya, his long hair tossed back as I crossed his path in the mornings, his heavy eyes and slow smile a heady promise as intoxicating as an all over massage in a Turkish bath.
Warm glances exchanged over a Gauloise, half-smiles shared over cappuccino across a village cafe, tenuous conversations in broken English, and the gentle touch of a finger on the elbow. My memory is filled with moments, replete and delicious, where the gentle art of flirting, its nuances subtle, ambiguous and mysterious, have filled my dreams, my heart, enlivening my ego with an energy electric.
For here, implicitly, is the beauty, the art of the flirtation.
It is all and it is nothing. There is no means to an end. It simply is.
It is a delicious moment shared with no forwarding address. The flirtation exists only for itself and the delirious enjoyment of it's own existence.
As light and ethereal as a meringue, as exquisitely delicate upon the tongue as spun sugar, flirtation requires a gentle touch. Too heavy a hand and it loses its delicious ambiguity and sinks into the realm of seduction and a purposeful mating ritual.
Oh yes, flirting loses its innocence and crosses the line when phone numbers are exchanged.
How deliriously restrained, how achingly, mysteriously controlled it is to leave it at the unspoken, the unfinished, the question mark.
Is it possible that we can still do this?
Wandering the streets, watching the television, reading a magazine, I wonder sadly, if in our sexually explicit yet condemningly moralistic society, flirtation has indeed become a lost art.
Our sexuality confounds us.
The messages are a minefield.
With so many of them to misinterpret, the rabid over-analysis of sex in our Madonna/Whore culture has dissected it to death.
While constantly reminded of putting a social foot wrong and the threat of sexual harassment that awaits us if we do, there is a simultaneous bombardment of soft porn images streaming through our plasmas and pictorials of hot babes jiggling their collective arses ad nauseum; there is a universal baring of plump and potent undercarriages in our genitally desensitized faces as we avidly highlight passages in The Dummies Guide to Flirting.
We sit with our legs crossed and our blouse buttons undone to our waist.
Are we even partially awake to the gentle art of tease?
Can the subtle art of flirtation exist without a flagrant flash of inner thigh or a bold and bawdy thrust of exposed nipple?
Is the subtle peep through eyelashes still intriguing, is the lingering look over the top of a newspaper naughty enough?
Conversely, is the playfulness of a flirtation to be misconstrued, debased as a cock tease, a come-on, a cue for sex?
I am afraid that in these days of relentless self revelation where pragmatism has left no room for the ambiguity of innuendo and nuance in matters of sexual attraction, the gentle art of the coquette may be lost. I fear the subtlety, the innocence, the playfulness of flirtation does not stand a chance.
Oh, how it needs rescuing, dear reader!
An artful flirtation exists as much for the brain as it does for the self esteem.
But a momentary pleasure, it epitomises an invigorating, witty, even elegant repartee.
It is an art form of the mind and body that requires a gentle hand and a playful touch.
And it always requires a question mark.
In embracing it, we could learn a little from our European friends, as writer Christine Schoefer so eloquently reminds us:
"There, (in Europe) the flair for flirting is so universal and so second nature that I'm convinced it is either transmitted via breast milk or tiny airborne spores. The seasoned market vendor knows what she's up to when she tosses her head just so, but does the 12-year-old realize that his sparkly sidelong glance qualifies as flirting?
Could it be that (we) have infected this practice with (our) relentless work ethic, while Europeans include it in their broad range of playful leisure activities?
Or did the pomp and extravagance of courtly rituals and games encourage Europeans to develop their own simpler versions of erotic play, to smooth out the rough edges of daily existence. Perhaps it's the pervasive presence of other sensuous pleasures? Pungent cheeses, velvety wines, chocolate with its purported aphrodisiac qualities that stimulates the desire to flirt?"
While I have to consider the influence of my own obsession with pungent cheeses, velvety wines and chocolate here, flirtation is something in which I have indulged since my teenage years.
Spending so many happy years in a committed relationship has only sharpened my edge.
How can this be, you may ask.
It is simple. The true art of flirtation rests on the knowledge that there is no purposeful threat, no agenda; there is simply a thrust and parry of the mind.
For truly, flirtation is the art of having sex without touching.
It was through my European adventures that I realized, that while being a Minx of the highest order, it is not a precursor to flirting to be young, beautiful or single.
While being both married and straight, I have engaged in the art of flirtation with as many women as I have men, white haired gents as well as teenage boys, ageing muleteers and female shop assistants; I must admit that even small animals have been employed as target practice.
Oh, it is a practice and it is an art. And, like all arts, cannot be prescribed as much as it should be practiced.
Like a delicious daily meditation.
Breathe deeply.
Smile and beguile.
Weave a spell with your wit.
Kiss him deeply with your eyes.
Yet, touch without touching.
Leave a question mark in the air.
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Reader Comments (29)
Oh Ms. Minx
You never cease to titillate and entertain. Flirtatious and fascinating creature that you are, we all adore you.
I'm most certain that all whom you encounter are beguiled endlessly...much like all of us who read this delicious blog
xoxo
Mistress M
Ah, you touch upon a subject that is dear to Bill's heart, the heady dance of the confirmed flirt!
I wonder if it's genetic, since I am sure I inherited what few skills I have from my father, who was an expert in the field.
And yes, it is a worry that the art may be dying, as too much around us is unsubtle, dull and blunt.
That's why we hold you in such elevation, domestic minx - you are preserving the subtle art like a grand mistress toying with a chess piece...
Fondest wishes
Bill
I do so miss the gentle art of flirtation and agree with you that it might be, if not gone forever, at the very least lost to most.
I myself am an outrageous flirt and can't imagine being any other way yet, as with you, there is a safety in the way it's done. I am at my very best when in a committed relationship and all parties concerned know that there is not a chance of it going any further than a sidelong glance, a smile, even a slight brush against the skin..deliciously sweet but only slightly dangerous.
Fabulous post as always, dear Minx!
I don't think flirtation is a lost art. In fact I think you are e-flirting with me all the time ;) and I like it.
"I wonder sadly, if in our sexually explicit yet condemningly moralistic society, flirtation has indeed become a lost art."
Yes, It Is a lost art. One art that I think you may have single handedly BROUGHT BACK.
Thanks for reminding me how wonderfully delicious flirting can be.
Ah, my dearest Mistress M,
to titillate and entertain is my very greatest pleasure...
I am a shameless flirt, it is true. How delicious then that I share the beguilement with my dear friends here in the boudoir...for I adore you.
xox
Oh Bill,
It is truly the Dance of Salome - that flagrant frolic of the Seven Veils...
I dare say your father taught you well, Bill...
Wit and innuendo are the true delight of the successful flirt...
While I do not think the art will ever truly die, I feel so sad, with the general dumbing down of our society and the atrophy of such subtle charms, that the gentle art of flirtation has lost some of it's tender flavour.
I will endeavour to preserve it, in all it's glory, for as long as I possibly can...
xx
You have summed it up perfectly, Rapunzel.
The flirtation lives only for itself...the sheer pleasure of it's play...
There is always the underlying knowledge that it will never go any further than the nod and the wink.
When it does, it has become something else...
The beauty of this gentle art is that it is so subtle...it is a game of chess - where we can all be the Queen, or King, of Hearts!
xx
Christina darling,
It is certainly not lost in my corner of the board...
And I am flirting with you constantly darling, you fabulous feline creature...prrrr...
xx
Yes indeed Meleah,
I think the Art should be revived in proper fashion!!
It needs to be viewed as a light-hearted non contact sport rather than as the hunting expedition it is so commonly portrayed.
The trick is in the subtlety - and that is what I feel is so lacking....
Here's to bringing it back, gently!
xx
Oh I so agree with you!
Flirting is the thing that binds us together in this delicious dance. My whole family flirt. My grandmother - who is 82, is still top of her game. My mother and Aunty are sages as well. I think I do quite nicely, but there have been times when I find myself in the company of my peers with the shocked response 'I can't believe you just said that!' It's delicious and nurturing, harmless, and a great affirmation that we are all still alive in my opinion. My familial training perhaps makes me out of step with my peers, but a gentle touch, or a raised eyebrow is so much nicer than grinding your but into some strangers face. Plus it doesn't get you into any unwanted trouble, and can be laughed off.
A double entendre, delivered with subtle wit is thrilling for both parties (or it should be), and a compliment to the intelligence of the other person.
Which is why I love burlesque. So cheeky, so charming, such a lovely flirtation, And your verbal burlesque is like honey dear Minx. :)
first of all i have to say i love your new wallpaper... girl,, if i didn't have some quite similar on my own blog... i'd think seriously of stealing yours!!!!!
and second of all i have never really been known for my flirting "sav-wa-fair"... but i can deliver the line "you wanna fuck???".... like a seasoned professional!!!!!!
Michelle,
I love burlesque. In another life I would have been right up there with them!!
It is so cheeky and full of the double entendre and the innuendo I too was brought up with!!
Isn't it lovely being cocooned in a family of flirts.
My mum, darling Minx Superior, is a flirt of the highest order, absolutely marvellous to watch...
I have sat at her feet...
As for the butt grinding. I am so over it. There is a veritable profusion of gratuitous arse everywhere, and while not offensive in itself, I do object to a lack of originality, not to mention subtlety...
The saturation of it disappoints me as it sets a benchmark that no gentle wit and subtlety can possibly be seen in...
Oh, you have flattered me greatly, Michelle, by comparing me to verbal burlesque.
What a delicious compliment xxx
Darling Paisley,
It was your new blog design that gave me a wake up call!!
Once upon a time when I first started blogging I had a similar wallpaper to this, though not quite as delicious.
After drooling all over your dark and lovely antique theme, I was simultaneously over my old look, reinspired by your delicious self and have subsequently re-wallpapered the boudoir.
Literally. This is a wallpaper scan!!! I believe it is a Shand-Kydd...
It is really rather reminiscent of my own home, which is very French inspired and black and white, with red accents (said with outragous French accent!)
It is important to feel at home here where I spend so much of my time...
I must say, that although your flirting savoir faire is diametrically opposite to that talked about today, coming from you, darling Paisley, it would be like a rivulet of mellifluous honey running from your sweet lips.
You are daring, delicious and darling.
xxx
"Conversely, is the playfulness of a flirtation to be misconstrued, debased as a cock tease, a come-on, a cue for sex?"
I think you have identified the nub of the problem, dear Minx. Flirtation can never thrive in communities where casual sex is a common practice. Now if a man had to ask a woman's permission before courting her, that might help to restore the innocence of the pre-courtship flirt.
Oh my dear Gorilla,
I do so love to identify a nub - and then set to work on it...
Curiously, the conundrum of flirting should not present the same amount of seriousness...it should be lighthearted and frivolous with, obviously, both parties parrying heartily..
What a shame it is so difficult and fraught with danger zones.
I fully agree with you.
As you have pointed out, in a society ablaze with casual sex, it is so hard to be flirtatious, without one or the other thinking it is all headed south...
and yet, to ask permission to do so almost delineates that very objective, only in a more protracted, and perhaps less exciting manner...
I often fear that we have taken the fun out of it, exposed the hell out of it, scared the shit out of it...
xx
Minx you are so right. Flirting is that innocent yet charged interaction that stimulates without consequence. It makes the imagination run riot and your heart think what if. But it is the magic of the "what if?" that holds the moment for so long.
As you know I was in France recently and went to stay with and really good English friend of mine who has live there for over 10 years. He has three girls and they have that naughty French flirtatious way. Not promiscuous, not precocious, but deliciously flirtatious in an innocent way. Feminine and enchanting. Notr sure if I have put all that right.
Norm XX
Oh Norman!!
YOU ARE SOOO RIGHT!!!
That is precisely what flirting is!
It is entirely poised on that one question -
"What if?"
for it is never explicit, never exposed...
It is, as you so eloquently put it, darling,
"An innocent yet charged interaction!!"
And it delights me to hear of your sojourn in France because the French do seem to have it all down to a T, don't they? The playful art of flirtation seems so natural to most Europeans..
I believe it is an art passed down through the ages, from mother to daughter, father to son, and exercised from infancy to old age.
I found it so appealing when I was there...
I will have to return soon for some practice!!
xox
I think you are singlehandedly helping to rekindle a lost and dying art right here, Minx.
And it is beautiful. Thankyou.
My dear ms minx
I once heard 'flirting is the most fun you can have with your clothes on' and I couldn't agree more. As a self described shameless flirt the fun is in the not knowing in the pure and utter thought of it and the adrenaline rush that ensues. I tend to flirt my way though life and once my daughter was old enough to observe and follow suit she now sails through life on the same naughty but oh so nice boat....she was vored most flirtaceous of her graduating class (as well as highest honors) yes the fine art of flirting handed down from me to her is probably one of the most useful skills and the most rewarding I might add...thank you for validating and reminding us of what we have in our already large arsenal...our feminine wiles. Much love and yes I am flirting with you....kk