Member-only story
I was a Mad Hussy
What taking off my clothes revealed —and it wasn’t my skin
It’s true. I was a Mad Hussy.
From my sky-high heels and lacy fishnet stockings to my silky black elbow-length gloves and red satin, black-feathered bustier — I was all Hussy. With a capital H. Photos of me, snapped by men and women, are probably immortalized all over Austin.
M.H. was bold, outrageous, and so damn sexy. She taught me many things — from the smallest skills of stripping while singing to bigger life-lessons that I still follow. She was everything I wasn’t. She’ll always be part of me; even if slippers are more my style now.
Although I left the Mad Hussy behind a long time ago; I call upon her sass whenever I need her.
I was a very shy kid, the kind of child who dove underneath my mother’s skirt when new people appeared. Even as a teen, I shrunk around strangers and felt small in large groups, circling conversations like a small fish looking to swim with the school.
If you met me today, you’d rarely describe me as an introvert. I’m direct. I look people in the eye when I shake their hand. I smile broadly. Sometimes, I’ll stand back and observe. But, when I want attention or to be seen, I know how to direct someone’s focus on me.
