[Youngish professional woman, dressed in pretty but conservative style (the classic floral dress or skirt/top equivalent). Draped discreetly nearby – so not yet visible to the audience – is a well-cut, bespoke gentleman’s suit, complete with shirt and tie]
Men. Suits. Men in suits. I’ve no hesitation at all in naming what I like. We’re all encouraged these days to be open and – what’s the term? – transparent about our preferences. So I’m just following – well, why not use the word, since it’s ready to hand? – I’m following suit. I’m sure I’m not the only one. I know I’m not. Chat groups, forums, social media, all tell me there’s a bunch of girls like me, out, loud and proud about it. Call it traditional, but… it’s how we like our men. And why? Well, I’m no psychologist or anthropologist, but if I had to give an answer…
[Pause while she considers]
…it’s to do with power. It’s hard to explain, so maybe an example’s best. I switch on the news and there’s a guy, a politician or someone, and I probably don’t agree with him, probably wouldn’t like him very much if we ever got talking, but if he’s sharply dressed, in a really good cut, then he’s half-won the battle before he even opens his mouth. Nothing looks better in the corridors of power, the boardroom, or the TV studio. So fitting, so suitable – yes, it’s that word again! – for a man when he’s busy making the big calls. I really believe it helps him up here [taps her forehead] as much as out here [runs a hand down her front]. Facing a high-stakes decision, what looks more reassuring – some slob in a tracksuit scratching his jowls, or that little touch on the cuff, or the jacket middle button, while a well-dressed man coolly considers his options?
[Smiles sweetly]
Sorry if the truth offends, but men are made for suits somehow, just as we girls – well, most of us – are made for…
[Gives a little twirl in her dress]
So that means I know exactly what to do with this, after I found it this morning left behind on the overhead luggage rack.
[She produces the suit from its hiding place]
It goes straight back to its owner. A few messages on social media – time, place, train route – should do it. Maybe we’ll meet in person! He’s got dress sense, I can tell that already. A nice eye for colour. The way the tie picks out little hints in the stitching, the shading neither too warm nor too cold. It’s the sort of combo I’d go for if I were a guy and I were feeling… executive. I wonder if he has my hair colour…?
[Has a quick look around her]
One easy way to find out. I’m sure the owner wouldn’t mind. I mean, if I’m going to all the trouble of returning it to him…
[Slips the jacket on. Checks herself in a pocket mirror]
Oh yes. It is a good colour. And a good fit. I guess he’s about my size.
[Does a few flexes]
Exactly my size. How about that? I suppose I am a little on the tall side… Well it’s not my thing, of course, but I can see why some girls go for the suit jacket look. So long as they keep it to a nice, feminine cut.
[Makes to take it off, then stops]
It’s curious. That thing I was talking about, that buzz I get when I see a guy in a suit… I got it again, but like… going in a different direction.
[Slips the jacket half on, half off a few times]
This way, that way. Like a current switching up.
[Checks herself in the mirror again]
No question. I do look good in it.
[Looks at the trousers]
I doubt these’d do me any favours, though. And it’s whole different game to donning a jacket. Still, by way of bursting the bubble…
[Slips her skirt off and the trousers on]
Perfect fit. Again. It’s almost as if…
[Strides up and down a few times]
There’s the buzz again. Even bigger this time.
[Looks down at the trousers]
Honestly, these hang as well on me as any guy. And speaking of hanging… I’m very glad I don’t, you know… hang. Down there, I mean. It’s one thing I don’t envy them for. When you’ve got a piece of clothing which relies on symmetry. I mean for starters which side do you choose, how do you decide where to… depend… yourself? And that thing’s constantly in motion, as well, it must be so awkward. Bouncing and bobbling, jiggling and joggling. Small, medium or large, the effect is always ludicrous. Why ruin the line of a good set of trousers?
[Strides up and down more confidently]
No, if there’s one thing that shakes my faith in the perfect marriage between a man and his suit, it’s this whole issue of deforming the trousers. We girls have a clear advantage in that respect, and if it weren’t for the addition of a shirt and tie…
[Looks at the two remaining articles of clothing]
A shirt and tie. Which any schoolgirl gets to wear. Until she grows out of it. Although boys never do.
[Slips off the jacket, then her top, briskly puts on the shirt and tie, then re-dons the jacket. Looks at herself one last time in the pocket mirror]
From top to toe, that tingling sensation. Like taking a ride on a bullet train.
[Considers]
But which direction to go in? Decisions, decisions…
[As she ponders, she absent-mindedly touches her jacket button, her cuff. Then she folds up her skirt and top and places them where the suit had been]
There, now. Try not to miss me. I’m sure the right person will come along. Whoever she is. Or he.
[Exit]
homo monologous 