stock.xchng - make up

The older I get, not only has my make-up become minimal but I wear it less often. Partly due to certain time constraints in the morning, like sleep, but partly due to a desire to not have to take it off at the end of the day too. By the time I get everybody to bed, take the dog out and close up the house for the night, the last thing I want to do is a whole bedtime facial routine. Yes, I know there are many products claiming to be stream-lined for today’s busy woman, but trust me, there is nothing less time consuming then doing nothing. Plus, there is an advantage to looking exactly the same the next morning as you did the night before. What you see, is truly what you get. The makeup bag in my purse consists of tinted lip moisturizer, hand cream, and random Hello Kitty bandaids. I’ve sort of been sporting that same mentality about my hair lately – less is more. There were years I spent hours curling, straightening, perming, bleaching, you name it, simply to get that “just rolled out of bed” look. Little did I know, that a cheap haircut that hasn’t been washed or combed in a couple of days could look so runway ready. I can be ready in 15 minutes flat for classroom volunteering, grocery store runs, an afternoon of errands, even a quick lunch with a friend. Apparently,though, going to the car dealership to have my oil changed requires a make-over.

I’m not sure if I was more impressed by the car or by the dealership when we picked out my car last summer. After the sales person showcased the car’s attributes, we were given a tour of the facilities. A tour. There’s a boutique,cafe, salon, lounge and kid’s movie/play area. I wasn’t sure if we were in a car dealership or a mall. And of course all of the sales staff is fully suited, full-faced and perfectly coiffed.

Today I got up early to shower, fix my hair and make-up. I was worried people would think I didn’t belong here, mistake me for some free-loader trying to use their complimentary wi-fi for a couple of hours. Maybe an extra sprinkling of fancy perfume will confuse them into thinking we own that car, rather than lease. But while I was finishing up my grilled ham and cheese on ciabatta, sipped my steaming mug of hot coffee, I laughed at the crumbs on my lap, my yoga pant clad lap. I smirked at the smudge of peanut butter on the cuff of my worn out sweatshirt, a sweatshirt found at the Salvation Army Surplus store. And I couldn’t help but stretch out my toes in the comfy tennis shoes I wear almost everyday.

It doesn’t matter what my face or hair look like, because what you see will always be what you get. And that’s okay.