She’s busy, or making it look like she is. Behind the counter she has her hands buried in the sink, and her head turned over her shoulder talking loudly to a friend across the counter. Wrapped in an apron and, oddly, a Christmas-coloured headband, she seems to float as free as her liberated, frizzy curls. Her tanned skin is flawless from a distance, blushed and tan in equal measure. Her loose clothes swing beneath her apron as she walks and gives a grin to everyone she passes. Her heavy boots contradict the lightness she exudes, they ground her, tethering her to the corporeal world.
Everything about her is black- from her shining sneakers to her leggings that look as if they’ve been painted on. Her roughly-cut but flowing black hair matches her thick eyeliner and she exudes an attitude as black as the thick, knitted beanie on her head. She refuses the world like a black hole refuses light. And yet. She’s working in contradictions, pulling on her blinding white jacket to leave. It seems to glow and suddenly she’s not black- she’s a study in colour. Her blue eyes gleam and a pink bra strap becomes visible as she throws her bag over her shoulder and makes her exit.
What is a modern woman? It is this lady here, with her highlighted hair pulled into a fashionable messy-bun and designer sunglasses toping her like a beautiful cherry tops a favourite sundae. Clad in straight-fit jeans and a navy henley, she picks at her salad with her smart phone in hand. The sunlight coming in the window mixes with the blue light coming from her small screen making her eyes an indistinguishable but appealing muddy colour. With her tartan bag gaping open at her side and the diamond studs carelessly thrown in her ears, it is obvious to onlookers that this is a space she is comfortable.