I’d Rather Go Naked … than Wear a Burka

Thank you, France!

Thank you for banning the burka, which is nothing but a symbol of barbaric, sexist, degrading female repression to signify we must give total submission to men.

Becky Romero, exposing myself at hotel window in 2008.

I’m going out tomorrow morning and having breakfast at a local French bistro, ordering a croissant, French toast and French Vanilla Yoplait.

When I go out shopping later in the afternoon for some French perfume, I’ll snack on some French Fries at lunchtime.

For my afternoon jog, I will wear nothing except my running shoes, socks, a pair of probably too-tight-to-run-in tri-color shorts and my Lily of France in action sports bra. We’re supposed to have a thunderstorm or two but if I get soaked to the skin and my bra becomes transparent that’s OK, too.

In the evening, my boyfriend and I will go to the Bistro Campagne. I’ll order split pea soup and then have poulet roti forestiere for the main course while sipping on some French Chardonnay wine imported from Burgundy. For dessert, I’ll have the crème brûlée with a nice hot cup of cafe calva.

When we get back to my place we’ll watch Casablanca.

Then, afterwards, I’ll go into my bedroom and put on my Simone Perele lingerie. When I come out I’ll slowly strip naked, humming La Marseillaise before inviting him to bed.

So, again. Thank you, France. Merci beaucoup!

I loved all the Parisians I met there in 2008 and someday I hope to return to Paris and express my gratitude in person.



I originally published this on my blog at the Experience Project, September 17, 2010.