An Icky Thought

Lipstick lifeline

Last night I was too icky to go to the grocery store because probably the Whole Store had nothing on their manic minds except my lackluster appearance and/or Really Important People might be in the produce section. (Yep, fell off the Wellness soapbox again.)

Seriously, have you ever thought about running an errand, but changed your mind since you weren't "dressed to go out"? (Tell me I'm not the Lone Ranger on this one.) I'm not talking about real stench, I'm talking gym sweat and it's not usually on my blacklist, but it was last night and I'm a little mad at myself. Who made these rules? And more importantly, shouldn't my steep investment in health and beauty aids allow me the freedom to grab some broccoli and carrots with confidence? I wonder sometimes how we spend so much time and money on our bodies, only to feel we're not worthy of public viewing.
        I had a friend in junior high that needed FOUR HOURS to get ready for Teen Town dances (where we sweat our Walgreens makeup off in 10 minutes). Funny that I should pronounce her prep time ridiculous, yet my Standard Operating Procedures were spot on? Hair rolled on 12 oz. orange juice cans (the original flat iron), powder blue eye shadow, sweet smelling toilette water (my dad once told me I smelled like a French bordello. I thought it was a compliment since it sounded ooh la la.) Shaving, plucking, blotting, and padding my bra to look like the gaggle of girls on the dance floor. Like Lenscrafters, in about an hour.
        Oh, to redo those early years, focusing on experience over appearance. What wondrous places my mind could have traveled. What sidewalks my rollerskates could have seen. What Tiger Beat magazines I could have re-read. Yeah, I probably didn't miss much.
        And I still measure my public persona on a warped scale created by TV stars and magazines. Facewash, vitamin C serum, hair paste, coconut lotion, razor, lipstick, along with the ever essential eye shadow primer, fill my beauty regiment until packing for a weekend trip requires a steamer trunk. Yep, that's for the au naturel summer look I crave.
        But all that is changing right here, right now. My goal is simplicity. Scale back on the products (except the Vitamin C serum, duh), aiming for a ziplock-size travel bag. Surely then the American beauty image will be beaten back into it's proper place.
        And I'll have saved enough money to have my groceries delivered.