I’m sure by now you know about my fascination with pretty boys who dress nice and look clean.
I love a guy who takes the effort to clean up and look dapper, it brightens the day and puts a smile on my face.
I mean, what would the world be if there were no hot guys to stare at all day, every day?
Anyway, I have been having a bit of bad luck when it comes to these so-called fine brothers.
First it was the not-so-smart handsome guy at the bank, now it’s my old high school crush who I recently got to see again.
Let’s call him Mr Model because Lord knows that body should be on a runway.
I hadn’t seen Mr Model in years and, truth be told, I had forgotten about him until earlier this year when I bumped into him at Carnival City.
He was looking amazing, body toned, skin glowing and the whole chino and golf shirt look with a poor boy cap looked amazing on him.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for a man, I just appreciate good looking guys. Besides this was my crush from forever.
I was wearing my favourite high waist pants and a tight fitting white top with gold accessories, my hair in box braids and toes perfectly manicured.
He looked shocked to see me, almost couldn’t believe it was me.
“Wow, Thabs is that really you? My goodness look at how fine you look,” he said.
Guys I am not lying. Mr Model really said that to me and I couldn’t believe it. Yes, I thought, I look good, but I didn’t expect him to say that.
Here was someone who had ‘friend-zoned’ me for almost five years, finally seeing me in a different light.
A barely audible ‘Thank you’ was all I was able to mutter while he went on and on about the good old days and how I had not changed.
Needless to say that was the highlight of my weekend and that night all my insecurities, weight issues and doubts disappeared.
Fast forward three months and guess what, I see Mr Model at a car wash. Lo and behold the very handsome fella in his jeans, white shirt and navy blue blazer.
His look was finished off with some Ray Ban aviator sunglasses and a clean shaved head.
My life at that moment moved in slow motion – blurred lines to be exact.
I was wearing my high waist pants, hair in a bun and a white top. I couldn’t believe it. I hoped he wouldn’t notice, but judging by the amount of detail paid to his outfit, I’m sure he scanned me top to bottom.
“You always look so trendy Thabs, how have you been?” he said. More like you always wear the same pants!
I can’t remember what I said, but all I know is I was out faster than the speed of light.
As if that was not enough I had a few errands to make at our local shopping complex last week, I was in no mood to impress so I slipped on a vest and my high waist pants, put on my turban and dashed to the store.
Standing there in a line, looking like something from a Dolce and Gabbana advert was none other than Mr Model. I died a small death inside. Why me, Lord?
I think he saw me trying to hide between the aisles as I simply couldn’t face him.
What had I done to deserve this. I say my prayers and eat my veggies so I really don’t deserve this.
Why didn’t he see me yesterday in my fabulous maxi dress, or the day before in my trendy dungarees? Why me? Eish, it’s tough being a woman, especially one called Thabile Mnguni.
I didn’t even go to say hi. I simply stood and read the back label of a tomato sauce bottle five times until the coast was clear.
This can’t be life. Things like this happen in movies, not real life.
But then again, this is my life we are talking about, a day without drama wouldn’t be complete.
So I have come to a decision, I will give my cousin those pants just to be safe.
This is obviously a sign that my darling pants have played their part and need to retire gracefully.
If I bump into Mr Model again, I pray he doesn’t see me in my new high waist pants that I will be wearing to replace the ones he’s already got to know so well.
Don’t judge me. I think they are the best thing since sliced bread – plus, they look fab!
