The One That I Want

Ask any guy or girl who likes girls what imagery launched them into puberty, and you will most likely find a collection of the following characters, just to name a few:

Carrie Fisher as Princess Lea in Star Wars

Justine Bateman as Mallory Keaton in Family Ties

Mia Sara as Sloane Peterson in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Olivia Newton-John as Sandy in Grease

Today’s seduction lesson will focus on Sandy. In the film, Sandy makes an iconic transformation from being a sweet cream butter good girl to black cherry compote bad girl at the end.  This transformation makes Danny, her sweetheart, fall down to his knees in overwhelm at the tornado of his attraction to her.  Simultaneously, the audience falls even more head over heels in love with Sandy than we thought we could.  But the reason is not just because she has teased hair, red lips and the tightest black pants known to mankind.  There is one special, precious moment that seals her into our hearts.  It happens in the first 45 seconds of this clip. Watch with me.

Did you catch it? It wasn’t the full camera pan of her body.  It wasn't the “Tell me about it, stud”.  It was the moment with the cigarette.  That moment of hesitation where she wasn’t sure what to do, and rather than faking her way through it or knowing everything in advance, she looks pleadingly at Marnie, who tells her to snuff it out with her red shoe.   What makes Sandy so loveable and attractive all along is that she is so un-jaded and lovely. That little doe-eyed look of need reassures us that this is still our Sandy.  Her transformation from butterscotch ice cream to piping hot fudge is quite sudden. We would probably not have been so smitten had it not been for that sweet moment of vulnerability peeking through, like a piece of lace under a leather jacket. Her new look is not just changing herself to please a man, it is a decision to explore a different avenue, just giving us more of her to love. 

From Bouchon Bakery, NYC

This is such a gorgeous articulation of the sacred seductress.  Often we think that if we just put on some tight pants and pink lipstick we will feel more seductive.  And sometimes that works.  But true seduction takes us on a journey that goes much farther than skin deep.  True seduction lasts.   True seduction takes realness. It is like the difference between a cheap, chemically laden piece of chocolate and a really good one made with pure ingredients. A really good piece of chocolate doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not.  Its aftertaste is pleasant, not toxic.  Have you ever tried to scarf down a good piece of chocolate really fast? It feels violating, like ripping open the petals on a rose before it has fully bloomed.  Great chocolate, like great seduction, demands the slow, perfect-imperfection of absolute authenticity.

Give this theory a test drive...and prove me right. 

Burnin’ up the quarter mile,

Kitty Cavalier