I tried to be that girlPosted: February 26, 2012
Or rather, I realised that it’s not cool to look down on someone else for making an effort when your own leg hair purrs when you brush against stuff.
There are now no errant hairs on my body. Anywhere – I shaved and strimmed and plucked and waxed. And I went and got my nails done. I dyed my hair to get rid of the greys. I face scrubbed and masked. I arranged a contact lens trial. I pulled in a favour from a make-up artist I know, and she’s going to give me a lesson.
And it was all very tiring. Not physically. There is nothing very demanding about sitting while someone files your nails for you. Lying back for 10 minutes and letting the mask do its thing? Not so strenuous. But all that thinking about yourself, and preening… It’s very, very boring. I’ve always wondered how high-maintenance women find the time, especially ones with children, but now I’m double-y in awe, because it isn’t just the time it takes to physically create the look – there’s all the time thinking about yourself, too. I am not that interesting, and I’m not that interested in myself. It was hard.
Ah… A very shoddy effort. I didn’t get past the basics. I am now a clean, smooth, presentable canvas. I should be putting something on it. I did ask the lady who did my nails about lash extensions. She said they’d probably brush my glasses and annoy me. Yeah. Probably.
Ooh! But today, a very good looking boy (20?) gave me his phone number. He was cleaning my car at the time. So maybe there is something to say for a bit of a spit and polish. I’m not going to call him. He’s way too young. But it was a very welcome ego boost.