Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Vanity Post - My First Upper Lip Wax and Skinny Jeans

I have been on this "I care what I look like" kick lately. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the psychotherapy.* Anyway, I got my hair did by a real professional for real money. I have been actually buying clothes for fashion, before the old ones are ragged and I have to. Vanity has been my friend lately, friends. And to that end, I have the following thoughts...

My First Upper Lip Wax

So, Beau and I went to see "Cirque Du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant". Cute movie. Anyway, by the time the movie was over, my bladder was bursting at the seams, so I had to stop at the bathroom on the way out. When I looked in the mirror, I was horrified to see something...new. There appeared to be a shadow on my upper lip. Surely, it was not the dreaded female 'stache. I've never had one before. I mean, there is hair up there, but it is white. Nay; it is translucent. But now, there was definite visibility. I wiped at it a bit and it seemed to sort of fade, so I talked myself into believing that it was just my imagination fueled by the fact that I had just watched a movie with a bearded lady in it.

Then, on Halloween, I went to the bathroom and saw the same thing, only this time, it was worse in two ways:

1) It was darker and more pronounced
2) I was otherwise looking FABULOUS. I felt like Taylor Swift at the VMA's. Completely crestfallen.

I looked closer. It didn't seem that the hairs themselves were darker, but thicker, and that my makeup was getting all gunked up in there and making me look like a 70's porn star. I decided then and there that when I went to get my eyebrows waxed next time, as they were long overdue for that anyway, I would get my upper lip done.

It was scary. When I walked in, the guy asked me what I needed, and I told him that I needed an eyebrow wax, and then in an embarrassed whisper, "and I need my upper lip as well." He didn't seem shocked at my embarrassment, which is a good thing. However, when the lady took me to that dreaded back room, I felt a strong need to talk about this, because it was very traumatic for me. Of course, she barely spoke enough English to tell me to lay down and understand facial parts. Eyebrow. Lip. Anything other than that, she was out. So, I just had to deal with it and save the talking for my therapist.

It hurt. And my lip still feels weird and has little red bumps on it. And now I have to do this forever, because when it grows back, it really will be a 'stache.

Skinny Jeans and Me

One sign of my age is that I am far more resistant to changes in the fashion world than I was as a teenager and an young 20-something. I remember a time when my friends and I mused that there was NO WAY that flared jeans would go out of style, and we couldn't imagine a world where those ugly, tight legged jeans were in. Alas, such a world is now the one in which we live.

In an uncharacteristic leap of faith, I bought a pair of leggings. They were part of an outfit: long sweater, leggings, ankle boots. It's the ankle boots that are the problem. Cute ankle boots are like crack cocaine. Now that I have a pair, I want more. Now, I am presented with a new dilemma. You can't see the cuteness of the boots under my out-of-style flared jeans. So, it appears that I am going to have to get a pair of the dreaded skinny jeans.

As a girl of some, shall we say, heft, I have always been under the impression that I could not wear anything with the word "skinny" in the title. But I wear the leggings, and I rock them. And what are skinny jeans but denim leggings? And as long as the top is of a good length, I won't have the Peg Bundy effect.

So, tomorrow I go in search of skinny jeans. I'll let you know how it goes.

*Can I just say that I am uncomfortable with that word? It sounds like "therapy for psychos".

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