So, I was standing in line at my local Starbucks this evening.. The mere fact that I was standing in line should have tipped me off that something bad was gonna happen. It may sound overly superstitious and, perhaps, down-right insane, but I am fully convinced that bad things follow when I end up waiting in line at my local Starbucks... no where else.. just that Starbucks...

Anyway, so there I was, standing in line, when an escapee from the bimbette colony ( Are they allowed to actually venture out in public alone? ) walked into the coffeehouse... You know the ones I'm talking about.. Hair that has been straightened to within an inch of its life, perfectly manicured french tips, bubble gum pink lip gloss that perfectly matched her velour Juicy track suit bottoms, a tight black T-shirt and matching sneakers... off-the-charts bimbette! So, she got in line next to me and proceeded to ufff and sigh, possibly in hopes that one of the Neanderthals in front of her would step aside and let her go first... Sooo NOT gonna happen!

Anyway, it got me thinking... Where was I on the Bimbette Registration day? I don't remember any memo getting passed around... Or is Bimbette Nation a 'members-only' type thing where you have to know someone who knows someone who has kissed the hand of the Queen Bimbette in order to get in? maybe it's genetic... But it got me thinking, where in my life was that veritable threshold presented to me whereby I could pass into bimbette-ness or forever remain a normal, albeit slightly less visually entertaining, person?

I distinctly remember a budding crop of bimbettes from high school... The girls who always found a way to make that God-awful gray uniform seem like a choice. These were the same girls that somehow got away with tighter than tight and shorter than short versions of the school dresscode coupled with forbidden items of clothing like flashy watches and earrings that gave even the slightest hint of a dangle. I was not one of these girls. I spent my high school years floating between the nerds and the cool kids (cool kids and bimbettes being mutually exclusive entities in my school). I spent my time volunteering for things and participating in school competitions and I clearly remember spending my last year of high school in a state of perpetual 'ditching' in which I don't remember attending a single class...

So maybe it stretches back further than that... Junior high ... hmm... It's getting a bit hazy here... I do believe we had a set of miniature bimbettes in junior high... the ones who stood out in the median of the street flashing their legs at the high school, cradle-robbing boys who used to come skidding by in their GT's... I never could understand it. Junior high for me was about finally trading in my thick glasses for contacts and meeting the girl who ten years later is still the best friend I've ever had...

Elementary school is a blur... and I'm pretty sure bimbettes were not even in existence then...

So, assuming this threshold was presented to me in Junior high, I was too busy, too blind or just too damn smart to notice. And I'm sorry if this offends anybody out there, but these bimbettes are precisely why us kuwaiti girls have such bad images. They are the reason my brother, who is looking to get married, says he would never fall for a kuwaiti girl b/c all guys ever see, in malls, in restaurants and on the street are bimbettes!

Maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, but I am getting more and more convinced that everything that is wrong with Kuwait can ultimately be traced back to the Bimbette...
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- Layla

02:43