There’s a lot of perks that come along with being a ‘kept’ woman.

You get to wear good clothes, drink cold sangrias at Picazzo, chat online for hours on end, hang out with your fellow kept besties, post pics on snapchat and the gram as well as shop, shop, shop and shop some more.

Life is good.

The only stress kept women have is to figure out whether they should pair their jeans with the black strappy heels or the gold crusted ones.

Make-up is as essential as air. They’ve got all brands in their special makeup bag; from MAC, to Black Opal to Lancôme. They breathe mattes and glosses and contours and eyelashes. They speak of foundation in pristine whites to deep darks to light browns.

Food is fuel, they understand. They like to keep their men satisfied. A full tummy will help retain your man, their mothers drilled to their brains, and so they aim to please. They’ve got the money to buy the stakes and the boneless chicken and the fish fillets. As much in quantity as they require. They buy French pasta and add stir fry veggies with a spritz of vinegar and soy sauce to top it off. Their kitchen equipment is top shelf gourmet. Cutlery, designer.

They go hard for their men. They go hard in cooking for them. They go hard in drinking. They go hard in ensuring that they’re numero uno in their men’s lives. They go hard against any woman trying to steal their man. They go hard. Steel.

Getting married is their ultimate goal.

No one wants to be the kept woman without a ring on their finger. That’s too risqué. Your man might leave you and head on to another woman. And then poof! Your livelihood goes just like that. It’s important to remember that you come in second to your guy. He’s the rich one anyway; you’re the glitter on his arm. So it’s a game of wits, trapping him. You have to deeply rub his ego into making him feel as though he’s the one trapping you. But in reality, you know you’re the true puppet master.

Sometimes you can ‘trap’ him into staying with you forever by getting a kid by him. It’s probably not what you had intended, but a kid is a lifetime safety haven. All men love their kids. And incase this one ends up rejecting the kid, there’s the law courts and take-away DNA kits to fix that. You’ve got to be a self-proclaimed kept woman to pull this off. No time for ‘ego’ or ‘politically correct feminist power’ here. Forget those. In fact, the more submissive and gorgeous you are, the better your chances of staying a kept woman.

Oh, and brains are a no-brainer. Literally. Acting and being dumb comes with the package.

No man in possession of his woman wants to hear that you’re smarter than him. That’s the death sentence in kept woman constituency of criminal violations.

You’ve also got to have a squad. And fight with the non-squads. Let me explain.

You’re all a squad of kept women. Your job, all of you, is to hang out at super uber restaurants and drinking away the day as other ‘independent’ women get their hustle on in the sun sweating.

You don’t care about such women. In fact, you pity them. You remember your former life as a hustler and so-called ‘independent’ woman and silently shudder. You never want to be reminded of those old bleak days. You look at your cold glass of sangria and keenly observe with your eyes, the mist lines forming on the large Olivia Pope-like wine glass. This is bliss, you reckon. You’d rather THIS; seated at a restaurant at 2pm on a Monday sipping away at a non-happy hour hour and gossiping with your girls than to be out there ‘building a career’. At the end of the day, all that matters is money, and you’ve got his black cards to prove that.

So you gossip with your girls. But in reality, you’re all frenemies. The fakeness is cast in stone. It’s a silent manifesto.

There are obviously the ones who date the richest or most influential of men. Those are the ‘leaders’ of the gang. The less influential your man, the lower in kept-woman-cadre you belong.

Prettiness also comes in handy. The hotter you look and dress and talk, the higher in social class you are. Networking is a plus. If you’re a social media goddess, with thousands of followers, the more influential you are.

But really, it all comes down to the mullah. What you drive and where you live dictate how important your role is in these social circles. Looking good, dressing well, knowing people, anyone can do that. But making boss moves? Aah. Now that’s the real game changer.

Money talks. The richer your man, the more influential you are.

Don’t forget to flaunt your perfect relationship on social media. It’s every user’s guilty pleasure. Travel and document the entire trip on Instagram stories. People will follow through religiously. Social media users believe anything they see, those fools. No wonder the phrase ‘Need to see it to believe it’ holds so much truth in it.

Others will hate, most will ignore, but all will envy.

And it doesn’t really matter. You’re busy living your lifegoals. Everyone else can take a backseat. As long as your man comes first, the rest can easily fall back.

Life is good as a kept woman, you muse.


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