Monday, September 21, 2009

Paging Pretty Woman

It has recently come to my attention, after a startling encounter with a mirror, that I have morphed into an androgynous mom beast.

Please note that being a mom in and of itself is not akin to become androgynous, or a beast. Far from it. For some women, motherhood ratchets up their femininity, and they walk around all womanly and sensibly sexy in their Chanel ballet flats and stylish trousers with just a hint of Lycra (for control, yes, but also for easy bends into cross legged sitting).

And then there's me, who long ago looked around the PTA meeting room smugly, visually honing in on women who matched their earrings to their sweaters or who simply never emerged from sweatpants, ever, and thought about how easily I could steal all of their husbands.

Okay, I never really thought that (though some thought that I was thinking that), but my point is: I didn't identify. That would never be me. I would always, at least, be cute.

Yeah - I'm not cute. Not right now. I have potential - I could go on a Less Than Extreme Makeover show or do a stint on What Not To Wear Because You Do Own Nice Clothes, Remember? and get myself back, but right now?

I am an androgynous mom beast.

I am, in no particular order:

1. Completely out of the MAC brow definition powder which defined not only my brows, but my entire life, apparently; a product whose importance I severely underestimated when I allowed myself to use all of it without writing down the color. Now the label is worn off and I will not be able to purchase it again without submitting myself to the cutting sales pitch of a makeup counter girl who probably sits in PTA meetings looking disdainfully at women who look exactly like me.

2. Eating way! too many carbs. I am not necessarily advocating either South Beach or Dr. Atkins - to each their own way to fitting into their pants - but seriously: even the Bible says "man cannot live by bread alone."

3. Not wearing my clothes. I've failed to assemble the cute and casual wardrobe I swore I was going to purchase when I realized that life really is better in flat shoes and expandable waistbands, and instead am about to wear a hole in my uniform: Keen water sandals, Adidas striped sweat pants, and red hooded sweatshirt. Did I mention that red is not really my color? That it highlights every single clogged pore and facial crevice and in general, makes me look like raw meat?

4. I need a pedicure.

5. And a manicure.

I cracked open an issue of Glamour yesterday, a magazine I have on a discount subscription but I've ignored because it continues to arrive with articles that have titles like, "Ten Things Your Boyfriend Doesn't Want To Tell You" and "Twelve Secret Signs He's Into You". I really think if all the signs are that secret, perhaps he's not really that into you. But I digress.

I thumbed through an issue and found myself reacting to the advertisements like a person who's been space traveling for years and was finally laying eyes on human beings again. The magazine was full of pictures of girls. Girly girls, with their hair done, and their makeup done, in cute outfits covered by even cuter fall coats, all over especially cute shoes.

That's when it hit me: somewhere underneath the mom beast anti-glamor, I was still a girl. I am still a girl. With the potential to once again be cute.

First stop: The MAC counter. Should I emerge with my ego intact, I will move forward and report.

2 comments:

Tulips said...

Glad to have you back blogging (makes my day).

Next time I see you, I will belt out "You Are So Beautiful To Me" ....because you are!

That said, I could use a little Mom pampering myself, so I completely identify with this post.

Two Shorten the Road said...

I so relate to this post.

I got a pedi and got my eyebrows waxed a few weeks ago and it was the first time in like a year. Of course now the brows are getting messy again and the toenails are getting chipped and I have no further appointments on the horizon. :P