A Love Letter To Plain Jane

Meet Plain Jane. 

She's pretty plain. 

Plain hair, plain eyes, plain face

- much the same. 

She has plain friends, and a plain job - all tame.

Leading the life of the exceedingly mundane.

I suppose there isn't much else to say about Plain Jane,

like picking out a droplet in a torrent of plain rain. 

-----

I overheard (read: not eavesdropped) on the Tube the other day a conversation between two guys, discussing their ventures of the previous night:

So are you gonna see her again?

I dunno. She's kinda plain. 

Although engrossed in my book (John Green's Looking for Alaska, if you were wondering), that word just stuck with me for a while - plain. What's so wrong about being plain?

I think too many people might be overlooking Plain Janes. I'm not judging those two gentlemen on the Tube in any way - to each his own, I say. I totally understand that everyone has their own preferences. But I've never understood why 'plain' every ought to be unappealing. In fact, I very much like plain.

I guess for me, plain connotes comfort. Comfort in the sense that there is a certain simplicity in beauty - a sort of quiet radiance. Homely, even (and even that word carries a negative physical connotation - why should something of the home be deemed unattractive?). Some girls scream hotness; some girls hum with prettiness. I guess I just always imagined myself with the latter (not that I don't really, really appreciate the former). You grab someone that's hot, but you hold someone plain. You hug someone hot, but you embrace someone plain. You make out with hot, but you kiss plain.

With Plain Janes, they look better dressed in baggy pyjama pants and your ill-fitting t-shirt than they do in a strapless, backless, midriff-less, and whatever-the-heck-is-left-less dress - not that they couldn't rock one, of course. They tie their hair up (because let's be honest: it's just more practical) over burning in curls, and they shuffle in bunny-shaped slippers rather than tiptoeing in 9-inch heels. They don't need make-up, because that stuff gets in the way when you peck them on the cheek ("Mmm... your blush tastes like chemicals. The good kind."), and they look better barefaced anyway; it's just easier to see more of them without the make-up hiding it all.

You don't have to take a Plain Jane fine dining every weekend, and have to pretend to enjoy delicately minuscule portions on humourously gigantic dishes, because she'll be willing to dig in with her hands the overcooked chicken wings you made whilst you watch stupid movies like The Hangover with your legs criss-crossed on the bed - AND she'll tell you it tastes good. But when you're not cosying up, Plain Janes also enjoy a little me time now and again, and you do your bit to protect that little sanctuary she so needs, as will she when you go "hang out with duh bros".

Plain Janes never tell you you're perfect just to stroke your ego, because she knows you're smart enough to know that's not true. Instead, she'll tell you straight up what you're not good at, because she'll follow up with how you can change that about yourself, and that she'll be besides you along the way. Plain Janes will never tell you you're invincible - but they will certainly make you feel so.

And the best thing about Plain Janes is when things are at their worst. When you fight, Plain Janes never scream, or throw things at you, or furiously and dramatically storm out the front door. They fight because they care. And when the fury dies down, you know you can sit down with Plain Jane at the edge of your bed and talk things out. You can apologise to a Plain Jane, because Plain Janes forgive and never hold grudges. And then you learn to treat Plain Jane better because you don't have to decipher some cryptically hidden message behind her "I'm fine. Really.".

I get that the impression I might be giving is that I only like Plain Janes. But my message is quite the contrary. It's really that we (me included) should be open to all Janes: Plain Janes, Hot Janes, Nerdy Janes, Cute Janes, Smart Janes, Quiet Janes... and all the Janes in between. Some Janes are even both Plain and Hot! Everyone has their own Jane. But I think the Plain Janes mostly get overlooked - and I'm here to say I, for one, like Plain Janes.

Because, after all, I'm pretty Plain James.

-----

But one fine day, along came Plain James,

Who saw Plain Jane - but not quite the same. 

As he tried to conjure something poetic and witty,

All he could think was how she's just plain pretty.

Her hair, piano black,

with a scent on your pillow stays.

Her eyes, deep hazel,

translates her heart with its gaze.

And a face unforgettable, 

not even willpower could erase. 

Her friends are her family, that she fights unconditionally for.

Her job is her passion; a pursuit not a chore. 

She was waiting for someone with better vocabulary

(or at least someone who writes poems that are a little less ordinary).

But to Plain James, none stood out more than Plain Jane,

like picking out constellations from a sky of plain planes.

If you're wondering who wrote the abysmal Hallmark doggerel that sandwiches this post: yes, it was me. I am not a poet, nor do I intend to be. The entire thing wouldn't fit on a public restroom wall.