“Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.” Which, I guess, was easy enough for Sophia Loren to say. After all, she probably still holds the world record for causing five-car pileups just by crossing the street.
It is true, though.
A woman who believes she is beautiful — no, not just a hottie, ’cause some fabulous shapes and pretty faces belong to women who are, as people, uglier than a mud fence — one who holds her self-worth in sure esteem, now that’s feminine beauty to rival a summer sunset. It’s the sort of smile that immediately catches the eye, especially a man’s.
When she stares, it’s a gaze in which you tend to get quite happily lost. When she speaks, you find yourself paying attention, and not just as a ploy to, in between what she says, give you a shot at talking holes in her clothes.
When she walks, it’s with, no matter her gait, a calm alluring confidence. None of which is to say anything is wrong with physically gorgeous females out of hand. Just, there’s other ways of being beautiful.
And, it’s all individual. No creature on earth sexier a smart lady. Not just intelligent — as God doesn’t seem to care to whom he distributes good looks, He also hands out I.Q.s willy-nilly.
If you don’t think so, mess around and get mixed up with an evil-tempered intelligent woman. You’ll have a hard time figuring out which is worse, the heartache or the headache. If you take a smart lady out to dinner, she can — without yakking all night about herself — be interested in an enjoyable conversation. About pretty much anything.
The more she talks, especially if she’s got a sense of humor, the more comfortable you are with her company. When she gets up from the table to, say, go powder her nose, you immediately notice something missing. It’s her. The smile, the facial expressions, and that certain indefinable quality called an attractive personality.
A truly beautiful woman is also going to be thoughtful. Considerate. You don’t find these qualities in a woman who doesn’t believe in her own personal self-satisfaction. Loren, I believe, was not talking about a female so hung up on her looks that she teaches her parrot to greet her when she gets home from work with, “Hi, pretty mama.”
She doesn’t make catty remarks about other women’s physical appearance. In fact, she probably isn’t terribly concerned about her looks or anyone else’s. She got up in the morning, hooked herself up, glanced in the mirror, stepped back, gave it a confident once-over and might very well not give it another thought all day.
She probably also will be the most beautiful woman in the room wherever she goes.
Dwight Hobbes welcomes reader responses to P.O. Box 50357, Mpls., 55403.
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