And these men suffer. Ironically, this makes the feminist in me very happy. In these places, my mujeron's hips get more nods than they might at a pony farm. In English, your hips are those pesky things on the sides of your hipbones. In English, hips are something women try to be rid of.
Hips are why women bruise themselves in the name of liposuction.
My mother's people hate my hips. My aunt smokes so she won't eat. Sometimes they walk out of the room even before I have begun teaching, as if hips were contagious. In these situations, I am sad. I drive home and examine my hips in the mirror, hit them for being so imprudent, like great big ears on the side of my body.