Today I write of gloves. And hands, those most expressive of body parts. Mine are ageing rapidly but there is little I can do about that, except slather on the Q10 hand cream and not place them too close to the hands of anyone still plump with collagen. Even Joan Collins can do nothing about her ageing hands. What we can do, both of us however, is cover them with kid.
Leather gloves have an added bonus in keeping the hands warm, so that the joints don’t rub together in that cacophonous way that leads to frowns that are so unattractive on older faces. I have worn my favourite gloves (black, soft leather, Lidl £9.99) all winter and am thrilled that I haven’t lost either of them. Lost gloves are less of a mystery than lost socks, because at least they go out and about and therefore live more dangerous lives, but they do get lost a lot and a long piece of elastic connecting them down one arm and up the other is not a good look if you are over three.
Apart from these practical concerns, it must be said that gloves are deeply erotic. One of my all time favourite paragraphs of erotica comes from D.H.Lawrence’s The Rainbow. I’ll go and see if I can find it for you. It’s a good way into Chapter X, should this wet your appetite.
“… he began with one hand to unfasten the buttons on her glove, to push back her glove from her hand, carefully laying bare her hand. And the close- working, instinctive subtlety of his fingers upon her hand sent the young girl mad with voluptuous delight. His hand was so wonderful, intent as a living creature skilfully pushing and manipulating in the dark underworld, removing her glove and laying bare her palm, her fingers then his hand closed over hers, so firm, so close, as if the flesh knitted to one thing his hand and hers…between them was the compact of his flesh with hers, in the handclasp.”
I think Lawrence, funny little man that he was, had his pulse on what a woman finds erotic. Even the rhythm of his words captures the slow, teasing, sensuous nature of a woman’s desire. There’s a lot more swooning and drifting on the following pages but you will have to find them for yourselves. I suggest you read the words out loud and swoon along with them(if you are a woman) or perhaps dismiss them as overwriting (if you are a man). In the case of the latter I fear you have overlooked an essential tool in the box of seduction. Voluptuousness. Something I have known well in my time.
‘Ah Allie, luxe,calme et volupte,’ as my friend Jean-Jacques used to say (with the acute of course, which I haven’t yet identified on this computer), as he surveyed me clothed to my armpits in soft black leather and little else. Yes gloves often have a story to tell.