Wednesday, March 13, 2013 probably think this song is about you

I have been grappling with decision the last few days. A completely unimportant decision in the grand scheme of things, but a decision all the same, and one that has me going back and forth internally. The you-are-a-child-of-the-universe,-made-up-of-no-less-than-stardust(!) side of me is chiding me for even letting this be an issue, while the you-would-look-a-whole-hell-of-a-lot-better-if-you-went-and-fixed-this side of me is urging me to pick up the phone and take care of it. Yesterday.

I'm vain. I wish I weren't. But I am. I guess I've always been vain because I can still hear my mother ribbing me about my 'invisible audience' when I was a teenager. Or maybe even before, I'm not really sure.

She would often ask me who I was primping for, "my invisible audience?" Obviously trying to clue me into the fact that no one is paying attention. No one is looking at me, or really cares what earrings or shirt I choose, so why do I put so much damn effort into it?

I'm not sure. But I've always cared. And if no one else, my internal critic is looking. She has tamed down substantially as I've aged, and has a much better sense of humor now too. But she's not disappeared all together. She still urges me to buy the more expensive jeans if they make my ass look better and to put on mascara before leaving the house. She does not appreciate cellulite and knows the importance of regular blond highlights.

Which leads me to my dilemma; my visit to the hair stylist on Friday night has left me with mousey brown hair, with just a shimmer of blond. I feel dull and different and muted - spartan, stark, and stripped down.

Of course, it was me who asked her to correct my color, as my blond highlights seemed to be getting a little too bright, too much of a contrast with the rest of my hair. Too obviously tampered with, because, hey, if there's one thing I don't want my invisible audience to know, it's that I actually have to put effort into how I look. I want to look good, but I want it to look God-given.

But now? Well now I just want them back. God-given or no.


Pat said...

Go, go, go...I vowed that when I turned 60 I would go grey, then when I was 65...maybe 70.
We should look the way we feel. You are sparkly. Get those blond highlights back!
Love, Mom

Vain and Blonde in Central PA said...

I'm with your mom (who's known you about 9 years longer than I have.)
You are blonde, Beth, and I don't care what Mother Nature intended you to be at 40 something, she had you as a sparkly blonde when we met at age 9. (or were we 8) So stick with it :)

Me, You, or Ellie said...

Oh, salon stylists are goddesses, are they not? How I love My Girl Jennie. When I first got rid of my gray I was worried I would look fake and brass and tampered-with. She assured me I'd look the same, only fancier. She was right.

"Dull and different and muted - spartan, stark, and stripped down" is the *opposite* of fancy, Beth. I'm with Pat and V&B -- get thee to your stylist. Yesterday.


Anonymous said...

Ummm. We need pics. Stark and stripped down is not necessary, just a head shot will do.

Beth said...

Ha, anonymous, good one. Stark and stripped down would be scary! Very.

But Yesterday has arrived. I've solved my problem....