Thursday, March 9, 2006

Nothing But The Truth, So Help Me God

This morning I looked at myself in the mirror, pre-makeup and other attachment application, and realized that sometime in the past six months, I had become a french whore.

I am not sure how this happened, but I am sure that I am using only slighly fewer enhancement tricks than your average porn star.

For example: today I am wearing all of the following items: an underwire in my bra, for lift. Dark lip liner, for poutiness. Fake eyelashes, as my own seem to be retracting into my skull. Rather poofy hair. Foundation. Perfume. Add a few gold necklackes and I could be any woman in the Soprano family.

Unless I'm remembering incorrectly, I used to be a more natural girl. I woke up feeling pretty, and had to accomplish little to continue that feeling into the day. Pretty was simply a state of being: I was, most of my friends were, it was nothing spectacular or unique. You were twenty. You were pretty. End of story.

Now, I'm thirty-five. Pretty takes effort.I feel airbrushed and slightly plastic. I do not have any friends who show up to events completely without makeup or other help. We were Facts Of Life. Now we're Desperate Housewives.

It's not that I don't like how I look. I think it's that how I look doesn't look innocent, and part of me misses that. I know what I know, and it's true that ignorance is bliss.

I told my husband that part of the reason for my stepped up appearance tweaking is that he is now working downtown, and seeing all sorts of pretty girls daily. I don't want him looking at skirts all day and then having to ride home with Weezy Jefferson.

He said, "Actually I see this really beautiful girl twice a day."

"You do?"

"Yes, in the mornings, and then again in the evenings when she picks me up."

Now certainly that's worth a fake eyelash or two. ;)

No comments: