Let me preface by saying that the salon I go to is not your basic salon. The stylists are mostly young and attractive, the clientele also… tending to be younger (under 45), and the area that the salon is in is pricey, hence the salon/spa prices are high… about $50 for a cut, $140+ for touchup and cut (more if you are into foils). I go there because my stylist Mia has worked for there f-o-r-e-v-e-r…. I can’t remember how long she’s been the keeper of my hair, but I would guess more than 15 years.
She and I have a lot in common. When I met her, I was still in my “goth” period (so was she). Which quickly evolved into a very stylish, classic style over the years. We joke that we are “just trendy enough” for our age. No one would think we were as old as we are, but we don’t look like Moms trying to dress up like teens either. Thank god for that.
As I was sitting with color on my head, I started looking around at the “fabulously” beautiful people. Wishing I was 50 lbs thinner. Wishing I had any curl in my hair. Wishing I looked good as a blonde (I don’t). Wishing I actually wanted to wear those knee high patent leather boots, and that I would look good in them.
So I sat there…..just me, my “Seven” brand jeans, my Uggs (which I think are out of style now), and my Lands End long sleeve t-shirt.
I looked down at my nails…. unpolished. My hands needing lotion.
I felt like a heel. My hands were always my favorite body part (not my boobs as my hubby thinks). I would take care to polish them, to moisturize them. I had “great nail beds” as my BFF Steph would always say… my nails always at the perfect length and shape. Never needing any assistance. I would just file them back occasionally, and receive compliments. I never had a salon manicure until I was in my late 20’s. Didn’t need to. I achieved nail perfection on my own.
I tried to think about when was the last time I polished my nails, and I couldn’t remember. I was suddenly pissed off at myself. It would take me what, like 15 minutes?? Once in awhile?
I used to be a very fashionable dresser…. every day. I always looked pulled together, and never left the house in sweats (embarrassingly, I do once in awhile now). I was a fashionista (still am), but after I started working from home and after I had David, I stopped spending my money on Ralph Lauren. I still dress up once in awhile, when I travel for work, or go into the office… and I love those days… but frankly, it takes too much friggin energy to dress up and put the face on.
I have a closet full of kick-ass handbags and few outfits to show them off with. I mean really, how good does it look to have sweats on carrying my $400 Coach purse???
What the hell happened to me?
I made a pact with myself in that salon chair. I will make an effort to paint my nails. I will put on my $300 boots (in three colors) with my jeans instead of wearing sneakers or my Uggs. I will get dressed up once a week at home. No one will see me, but I will see me.
I will not go to Target looking like I just came from the gym. Cause y’all know I didn’t (I’ll be workin‘ on that after Christmas).
Baby steps back to finding me…
I got up this morning, put on my makeup and marveled at the gorgeous honey/caramel color of my hair (thanks Mia). I put on a new shirt, my jeans, and my boots… and I drove David to preschool.
I had his holiday gifts for his teachers in hand… when I walked in, one of the (young and attractive) teachers said.. wow, you look nice today!
Back at ya, girlfriend.