We Should All be Flirting More
The world would be a better place if we spent more time turning up the charm.
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My four-month-old daughter is the biggest flirt in the world. When met with a new or familiar face (or even her own face), E. will light up, squirming and gesticulating with pure joy at the slightest provocation. Her dark blue eyes twinkle, her dimpled cheeks flush and her gummy mouth will explode into a huge toothless smile. Sometimes she coos, but she always hams it up. R. likes to ask her if she’s cheesin’. She cheeses harder in response.
The other day, R. and I were talking about baby girl’s flirtatious nature when he mused aloud about “where in the world she got that from?” “From the best,” I said. Then, we laughed. She got it from me. I am the best at flirting. Not to brag, but this has been confirmed by a middle-school award I almost won once. I’ve been repping the (honorary) title ever since.
I’m also pretty sure R. has never flirted with anyone in his life ever—the writer of this newsletter not exempted. For example, he once told me a story about two girls that approached him and a friend in the college weight room, asking for lifting tips. R., who attended school on a track scholarship (as a decathlete, his event was…all of them), proceeded to give her actual weight lifting advice. “I realized later she was probably flirting with me.”-R. more than 20 years later.
Is this man for real? He is. When we first started dating, we were at a café on NW 21st street in Portland. It was a brisk and gloomy day that’s typical of the Rose City in late autumn. People were in parkas. Except for one cute early-20-something in a pleated miniskirt, skin-tight crop top and stiletto heels—HEELS, friends. Heels in PORTLAND.
I was blown away, mostly because I was cold just looking at her. I’m not body shaming. She looked good, knew she looked good and pulled the ‘fit off. I respect the confidence. I mention the outfit in detail because she definitely stood out among the Patagonia down coats, wool-knit hats and boots of all persuasions. She also gave R. some eyes as she passed by. That’s when the following exchange ensued.
Me: “Did you see that girl? I don’t know how she wasn’t freezing.”
R: “No. Why? What was she wearing?”
Me: Describes outfit and the once-over she gave him. “She was really cute. You seriously didn’t notice?”
R (dismissively): “No. I’m not really into girls who need a lot of attention.”
Me: “…I need a lot of attention.”
So, no. Zero of R.’s genetics went into the creation of our natural-born flirt. E. got her talents from the girl who never completed a single woodshop class project on her own and still charisma-ed her way to an A. She inherited the coquettish DNA of a woman who firmly believes that if she were wearing her blue dress, she could prompt Ryan Gosling to do a double take. And while a number of factors have reined in the shamelessness with which I flirt (namely, long-term partnership, growing up, a diminishing need for outside validation, and a newfound focus for my energy and attention), I still attempt to charm nearly every person I encounter.
Why? Because flirting is low-stakes fun! It makes random encounters a little more exciting, and occasionally, a kind barista will give me the soy milk in my café au laits for free. But even if there weren’t monetary perks, I’d still do it. I find the subtle art of kinda-sorta hitting on someone to be joyful. It makes me feel a little more alive in a world where many, many people seem inclined toward negativity and firmly committed to perpetual unhappiness. And despite our best efforts, life can sometimes get a little boring. Tapping into your seductress/seducer energy is a playful way to keep mundanity at bay.
It's also completely harmless. If you go about it in an ethical way, that is. As I often tell my friends, “I’m not saying you should fuck the guy. I’m just saying you should have a little fun.” My best recent example was the interaction J. and I had with C. the Bartender in Greece. Throughout our conversation, I could tell he was into me. We smiled and laughed and did a little dance. He offered us free shots. I complimented his ability to tell a good story. He invited us to come back later in the evening when a semi-famous DJ would be dropping beats (or whatever). And then, J. and I left, never to return.
It was a delightful time, and most importantly for me, it was the first time since I’d given birth 10 weeks prior that I felt sexy. Later that same evening, I would look at photos of J. and I together and feel disheartened by the way my body looked in them, but for those couple of hours at Barrio, I embodied the full force of my femininity with complete abandon.
Which brings me to another essential point about flirting: It is a fabulous way to test your sexual power. This is something I implore everyone to do, regardless of your race, gender, age, sexual orientation, etc. How will you ever understand what an amazingly magical creature you are if you never investigate this part of yourself? Sexual energy is the energy of creation, creativity and manifestation. Flirting is an easy way to see how these powerful forces might unfold in your everyday life.
It might also help if you think about flirting in the broadest possible terms, as I do. It can be anything from sincerely asking someone how they are (and really listening to the answer) to giving a genuine compliment to smiling at and holding the gaze of someone you find enticing. Flirting can be more overt or so understated that the recipient you seek to enrapture misses the inuendo entirely. It’s really about kindness and pleasure and spreading good cheer.
Here, another example comes to mind. This one showcases the net benefits of nuance. The other day, I was at the Dollar General buying pineapple juice (I had a craving) and some laundry pods and hair products. When I got to the register, I asked the young guy behind the counter how his day was going. “About how it looks,” he deadpanned. I laughed. Most people would have said something bland like “fine.”
And the guy didn’t say it to be a jackass. He was answering honestly, and I appreciated his candor. That surprise comment, which had just the loveliest pinch of mischievous sarcasm, broke the ice. From there, we had a short interaction about how I looked like the kind of person who would bring her own bags to a dollar store, and how I had, in fact, brought my own bags. I told him to have a good one, he wished me the same, and I left feeling lighter than when I came in. Flirting can be that simple.
Now, before you go off halfcocked (pun intended?) running your fingertips across the backs of strangers and making aggressive double entendres at your friendly neighborhood barista, let’s talk a little bit about how to flirt ethically. Wield your powers of seduction with care. There are times when a low-key come on is likely welcome and times when you’re better off keeping it in your pants. For one, do not bother service workers when they are clearly busy. The cashier with a line 20 bodies deep does not give a shit if you like her broach. She’s trying to get you in, out and on your way.
For another, if someone is not picking up what you’re putting down or becomes combative or rebuffs your efforts, have the grace to accept their “no” as an answer and move on. There are literally billions of humans on this planet. Don’t waste your time with someone who isn’t that into you. Perhaps the biggest bit of advice I have on ethical flirting is to…not be gross about it. Batting your eyes at a hunk in the weight room while inquiring about ways to tighten your core? Fine. Rubbing your hand across your erect penis while eye-fucking that babe across the dance floor who is very clearly trying to avoid meeting your gaze? Not freaking appropriate, Dan.
Instead of doing the most, be cool about it. Practice often and with people you might otherwise not. Do so without an agenda, but be grateful if you get something out of the interaction (be it an A in shop class, free soy milk or an unexpected laugh). Most importantly, have fun. Flirting can be endlessly gratifying, and the world needs more people who know how to have a good time.
With pleasure,
Yes, Misstrix
P.S. Before I started putting this newsletter together today, this gem popped up on my news app. If you’re not able to see the full article, the gist of the first question to Dear Prudence is about a person who is “the ultimate flirt” but wants to stop. Her short answer? Don’t. I love when the universe backs me up.