to the girls ready to be sickeningly feminine - a rulebook
because, isn't it lovely?
As a young girl, there was a certain kind of woman I was drawn to on television. Their noses were always in the air. Their hair was never untamed. Their clothes were always intact. Their makeup, if they had any on, was flawless. The way they walked… the way they talked, it all felt so –well, perfect.
Stuck up.
Boujee.
High-style.
Picky.
Extra.
High-class.
Fancy
There were so many words used to describe these women by others. And, honestly, I secretly despised the descriptors. They all felt too much like jealousy, disguised and reworded.
Code for:
I’m not like her.
She’s not all that.
Don’t be that way.
Keep your nose down.
She’s difficult.
She spends too much time on herself and her self-care.
I can’t do my hair like that.
I don’t have those kinds of clothes in my closet.
I can’t speak the way she does.
I didn’t pay attention in class like her.
I don’t take myself as seriously as she does.
It wasn’t until adulthood that the once surmised became evidently true. I was not like the others. The ones who consider the Claire Huxtables, Whitley Marions, Denise Huxtables, Fran Fines, Joan Claytons, Toni Childs, Hilary Banks, Ashley Banks, Regine Hunters, Francesca Monroes, and Lisa Laundrys a problem instead of a display of passion.
For life.
For love.
For womanhood.
For self.
For femininity.
There. I said it.
Their ability to be and present themselves as ultra-feminine, well-put-together women was befuddling for some. For me, it was emancipating.
Joyful.
Inspiring.
Exhilarating.
Striking.
All-consuming.
I waited for their faces to grace the screen, holding my breath until I heard their voices. I was always desperate to know what they were wearing, saying, doing, and loving at the moment. They made the shows for me, whether they were a supporting or main character. Those women became my study material. My guides. Perfect subjects. Examples of the sheer beauty etched in our birthright to be wholly and unshamefully a girl. Watching them was like watching a nineties crash course on the feminine woman.
Because let’s face it.
The world (today) is such a difficult place to navigate that women are hardly able to think about thriving when survival of the fittest is the game.
Still, there are a select few who want to show up well-dressed, well-educated, well-spoken, well-versed, well-rested, and looking damn good for the wars we fight each and every day as humans. As women. As creatures.
And, though times have changed and this isn’t the nineties or a television show, you, too, can be well-dressed, well-educated, well-spoken, well-versed, well-rested, and looking damn good for the daily war.
Here are the rules.
Observe more. Say less.
Speaking too soon and too often usually separates the slovenly from the kempt woman. The difference is striking.
Femininity is loud and boisterous. Simultaneously, it is gentle and reassuring. Charming and hearty. Comforting and quiet.
It speaks volumes. It doesn’t require words, especially not at an alarming rate. The most feminine women in the room are observing, taking note, savoring moments, wondering if she chose the perfect fragrance for the occasion, analyzing the room, remembering to say hello to the newlyweds, sipping champagne, and saving her energy for the strict nightly ritual she has strategically designed for herself.
It is the main reason why when a feminine woman speaks, almost everyone stops to listen. They wait patiently for every word to fall from her perfectly lined lips. Anticipation seeps from their pores as they began to settle in the fact that they’re going to be listening for as long as it takes her to conclude.
Femininity is silent structure. The feminine woman is a direct order, herself. She commands attention without asking or begging. She quietly beckons for eyes and ears. She commands the moment. She demands the floor for as long as it takes for her to add value to the conversation.
And, believe it or not, she makes others want to speak better, speak up, act better, or simply have some tact. Her body language and secretly sensual nature naturally make others want to impress her with their ability to be as refined, radiant, and ravishing as her.
She’s the originator of influence. The OG influencer.
Study proper etiquette.
Spines straight.
Elbows off the table.
Chin up.
Proper utensils.
Legs crossed.
Feminine women reserve every moment for a chance to practice proper etiquette. No moment is too small or too private. The only exception might be when they are on their knees and their partner’s pole is in their mouths, but I imagine they’re still using sir, please, and thank you.
The videos on proper etiquette are plentiful. So are the books. Pick up one!
Feminine women are able to move so gracefully and notably different from others because they’ve studied the material. They’ve woven their findings into their daily lives. And, so, it doesn’t feel performative. It feels natural because it always was. They just needed a match to light the wood they’d already prepared.
Remember names.
I can’t stress how important it is to remember the names of the people you meet. Even if that means jotting them down in a small notebook with short descriptions that you can revisit later.
Remembering names can be pivotal. And, the feminine women are cognizant of the fact. Not only does it make the person they’re in conversation with feel special enough to have been remembered, but it’s the start of new connections.
Bridge building. That’s what it translates to. It doesn’t matter if it’s the guy at the grocery store, the parent at gymnastics, the mail carrier, the guy at the front desk, the concierge, the old lady across the street, the barista, the man who’s always running when you leave out for work, or the mother of the tallest kid in your child’s class.
Remembering someone’s name has been the ice breaker for so many meaningful connections.
“Good to see you again, James.”
“Good to see you again, too, Sonya. I was just telling my wife, Hazel, there’s a former gymnast at the coffee shop I love so much.”
“Hi, Hazel, I’m Sonya.”
“James mentioned you. I know you’re semi-retired, but our granddaughter is trying for the gymnastics team next year. I was wondering if you’re up for offering private lessons two or three times a month.”
“Of course. I’ve been posting about my private lessons for a full week now with no promising leads. It’s perfect timing.”
“Well, now you have one.”
It’s simple. It’s kind. It’s a small gesture to make someone feel better about life for the moment while simultaneously serving as a stepping stone to new connections, experiences, and opportunities.
Develop rituals, not more routines.
When it comes to femininity, almost nothing is a routine. It’s a ritual. Rituals are those things that relieve you of the mental stress life tends to carry. Rituals lighten your load–mentally, physically, and emotionally. Rituals feel good, and they make you feel good. Rituals calm your soul and hum to your heart. Rituals cater to the ideal of ease and simplicity. Rituals are nurturing.
Soul-stirring.
Quieting.
Slow.
Savory.
Still.
Memorable.
Peaceful.
Followed not forced.
Rituals are the bread and butter for the feminine woman.
“Sunday nights are for resetting.”
“Mondays are for pilates.”
“My manicure is scheduled for every second Tuesday of the month, because they are my slowest and least demanding days.”
“I don’t cook on Fridays. I rest.”
“I wear my good slippers on Saturday and Sunday evenings.”
“I add bubbles to my bath three times a week.”
“I light a candle every Friday night to welcome the weekend.”
“I change my handbag every three days.”
“I have a latte by seven every morning.”
“My morning brew pairs well with my writing tasks in the early hours.”
“I only make hair appointments for Saturdays.”
“I rotate my closet every season.”
“I don’t send messages or take calls after seven.”
“I visit nature at noon every day.”
“I read four pages of my current book every night under candlelight.”
Rituals are invisible boundaries that remind you to take care. They make you feel better, lighter, and lovelier. They’re tiny little love letters to your inner self. They’re something you’re always in control of, even when you feel like you’re losing control of everything else.
Life feels better when you actually get to add bubbles to three baths that week. Or when you have that latte by seven every day in the month of June. Or when you rotate your closet for spring. Or when you actually rest instead of cooking on Friday. Or when you read those four pages under candlelight.
That’s why feminine women have rituals, and they are hardly associated with their routine. Routines usually involve other people and their needs/desires, and the things that must be done. Rituals are selfish. Routines are (usually) selfless.
Femininity requires the peace rituals supply.
Maintain your discipline.
Feminine women are disciplined women, though the softness of their appearance might say otherwise.
How do you think their hair is always perfect?
And their makeup?
And their clothes?
And their skin?
And their words?
And their nails?
And their bodies?
Discipline is key to femininity. Even when they don’t want to, they do. Even when it’s easier not to, they do. Even when they’re tired… overwhelmed… unsure… they do. And, they do it well.
Feminine women hardly look like what’s happening, not in their heads or their lives. They are the epitome of not looking like what you’ve been through or going through.
Laziness is a disease to them, and they avoid it like the plague. They have time, energy, and effort. When they don’t, they make it.
A feminine woman’s discipline and dedication can easily be compared to the discipline of a soldier. It’s just softer. Quieter. Calmer. Slower. It’s feminine.
Speaking of discipline, I’m exercising mine. Ugh. It sucks because I could go on forever. I will. Just not here. Not now.
This series will continue with more rules in the book. However, we’ve reached over 1,500 words with this post, and my plan wasn’t to keep you here this long. Part two is pending. Stay tuned.




I love how you were so clear and concise on the difference between rituals and routines 👏🏽
i was remembering how my grandmother used to buy me silk nightgowns as a little girl. how i loved how soft they felt against my skin. the little practices she had that I would observe. i lost my way. this rule book is revival. 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾