I Have Found My Girly Thang.

Obviously Taylor Lautner's found his girly thangs.

Lord and Buddha and whatever other deity knows that I'm not the most fashionable kid on the block. Heck, I'm not even the most fashionable organism within a one-metre radius. When I was a kid, my grandma locked up all of my 'good clothes'.

Which basically was 95% of all my clothes. So I had to rotate the remaining 5% like no tomorrow. Traumatic. Especially when I had to wear a green shirt with red pants (Asian Santa's Elf much?)

When I acheived garment liberation at the age of 12 (I finally wrestled the key from her), I was happy. I pulled on whatever I wanted to wear everyday.

But recently, some FFFs have been talking to me.

Fashionable Females in the Family.

Like my mother. While driving me to the college, she was talking to me and then she suddenly noticed my very plain head.

"Youlin, why did you not use those absolutely cute hairclips I bought for you?"

Dude, I forgot. I actually forgot.

Oh well. Here I am, a kid who strives to do well in school and respect the Parents at the same time. And I don't complain when they ask me to do stuff. The only thing I'm doing wrong is forgetting to wear some absolutely cute hairclips.

"Tsk tsk Youlin. Disappointing. What is the point of me buying them for you?"

Sometimes words fail me. Even though I do like those hairclips. But woman, they're just hairclips.

So anyway lately I had to do a quick rescue operation to save my femininity. Or female-ness. Girly-ness.

Guys, I feel myself slipping. Into the realm away from the typically girly things. Into the Unknown!!

I'm not one to stereotype, but someone pointed out that there are some things that a typical girl would take an interest in. Ok. Not someone. It's my mother.

She says I cannot keep wearing lumberjack shirts and discussing physics with her. And no tough army skirt with that random T-shirt. And a little bit of floral would do me good.

Normally I'd tell my mother to please let me be me. But you know what? Sadly, I've found this hole within myself. This hole which I must fill with a bit of girlyness. Because secretly, I kind of like pink. Because secretly, I like little bows and ribbons and going all English Countryside Lass. Because secretly, I enjoy people playing with styling my hair.

Yes, underneath my tough, sci-fi hardened exterior, I'm floral and fluffy, Hmm. Very fluffy.

I needed something to represent this girlyness, so I resorted to stalking the discount-filled halls of the nearest shopping mall. Something that wasn't too pink. Something that wasn't desperately plastic. Something that would still allow me to wear lumberjack shirts and quote Spock AND be girly.

And then I found it. My girly thang. It was like an epiphany. Like when I found out Maggi Noodles were actually from Holland.

Yes, this is it. My girly thang. Hair bands. I swear as soon as I put one of them on, I feel fluffy. I feel some sense of liberation.

I even found one to match my lumberjack shirt. And to test it out I did the Vulcan hand salute while wearing it. I swear, I felt Leonard Nimoy and Zachary Quinto watching me.

Now imagine him with a hair band, Chinese, female and very much younger. That's me!

I swear, hair bands felt right. It felt right with my geekiness. My nerdyness. My inner girly cravings.

Now I'm off to buy them in every conceivable style and colour. Whee!