(no subject)
I'm pretty bad at being a girl.
I often get the impression these days that every girl I meet was born with some sort of innate knowledge of beauty: she can successfully wrangle her hair into anything flattering, or apply makeup like a Renaissance painter, or make anything out of her closet look good. Not so me. I've managed to reach the ripe old age of 24 and almost-8-months with absolutely no fashion sense, and I have to Google what makeup will match a top before I go somewhere after trying to give myself smoky eyes and ending up looking like a bruised high-school Goth. What are smoky eyes, anyway? See, I'm attempting things I haven't even grasped conceptually.
I know this isn't true. I've met plenty of people who just don't care about the overly girly intricacies of personal appearance -- in fact, they transcend them by just being all-over fabulous -- and they would probably back up my original viewpoint that showered-and-dressed is really all you need, and the rest is gravy. (Although now that I've said that I'm guaranteed to get a comment from someone, probably Nut, about being naked.)
But when you're out of work you start reevaluating every little aspect of yourself and noticing every way in which you fail. Even my own mother thinks I'm a schlub for my age. I think it's because I'm getting married, but she's different with me now. I'll go bra shopping (oh god I hate bra shopping) and she'll urge me to get brightly colored bras instead of just plain, because I'm in my 20s and should live it up. She's even started me on some kind of skin care regime to look good for my wedding and why not, it'll be good for me later. The attention is bizarre, but kind of nice; I do like that my relationship with my mother has steadily improved after I graduated and moved out. But now I have a whole new way of looking at myself.
(Note: Cosmetics from Whole Foods. Not bad. And exactly the sort of thing a health-conscious, former-folkie mom would give her daughter. I may be a little desperate, because I've always had bad skin, but my mom has never been big on cosmetics. It's actually working, even; Will noticed improvement and when I can get a reaction from a guy about my skin, something must be going right.)
And I look at the people around me too. I made some new friends at The Alleged Job, and they were awesome, and nerds, but they all knew how to dress like fashionable young New York women and apply makeup whereas I'm comfy in the native costume of the geek: t-shirt or hoodie and jeans, ideal for gaming or watching Jeopardy on the couch instead of going places. I actually got up off my lazy ass and went to a bar for one's birthday the other night. I hate bars and was completely out of my element, but the company was lovely, so I tried. I had one drink and felt a little fluffy in the head. But I digress. I think it's the wedding, really, that's making me think about how I'm lousy at being a girl. Everyone's all "c'mon, you gotta look good for your wedding!" And I look at makeup or skin care and think "oh, it might be fun to make myself look a little nicer" and then realize I'm bad at it and everyone else my age is worlds ahead of me. Reminds me of when I was in college and my glamorous friend Steph would dress me up and do my makeup for dances and I came out looking like a completely different person. I used to go blithely through high school inexpertly applying makeup for homecoming and just not caring if it looked wrong; I don't know what changed.
This morning I read about beauty on The Knot and came up with something about exfoliating lips: wet a toothbrush and brush them. Awesome, I thought. I'm always biting them, they could stand to look good, and that's really easy! So I shower, brush my teeth, scrub inexpertly at my mouth, and apply Vaseline. Then I look in the mirror. Voila: shiny, puffy red clown lips. Beauty FAIL.
I should have been a boy.
I often get the impression these days that every girl I meet was born with some sort of innate knowledge of beauty: she can successfully wrangle her hair into anything flattering, or apply makeup like a Renaissance painter, or make anything out of her closet look good. Not so me. I've managed to reach the ripe old age of 24 and almost-8-months with absolutely no fashion sense, and I have to Google what makeup will match a top before I go somewhere after trying to give myself smoky eyes and ending up looking like a bruised high-school Goth. What are smoky eyes, anyway? See, I'm attempting things I haven't even grasped conceptually.
I know this isn't true. I've met plenty of people who just don't care about the overly girly intricacies of personal appearance -- in fact, they transcend them by just being all-over fabulous -- and they would probably back up my original viewpoint that showered-and-dressed is really all you need, and the rest is gravy. (Although now that I've said that I'm guaranteed to get a comment from someone, probably Nut, about being naked.)
But when you're out of work you start reevaluating every little aspect of yourself and noticing every way in which you fail. Even my own mother thinks I'm a schlub for my age. I think it's because I'm getting married, but she's different with me now. I'll go bra shopping (oh god I hate bra shopping) and she'll urge me to get brightly colored bras instead of just plain, because I'm in my 20s and should live it up. She's even started me on some kind of skin care regime to look good for my wedding and why not, it'll be good for me later. The attention is bizarre, but kind of nice; I do like that my relationship with my mother has steadily improved after I graduated and moved out. But now I have a whole new way of looking at myself.
(Note: Cosmetics from Whole Foods. Not bad. And exactly the sort of thing a health-conscious, former-folkie mom would give her daughter. I may be a little desperate, because I've always had bad skin, but my mom has never been big on cosmetics. It's actually working, even; Will noticed improvement and when I can get a reaction from a guy about my skin, something must be going right.)
And I look at the people around me too. I made some new friends at The Alleged Job, and they were awesome, and nerds, but they all knew how to dress like fashionable young New York women and apply makeup whereas I'm comfy in the native costume of the geek: t-shirt or hoodie and jeans, ideal for gaming or watching Jeopardy on the couch instead of going places. I actually got up off my lazy ass and went to a bar for one's birthday the other night. I hate bars and was completely out of my element, but the company was lovely, so I tried. I had one drink and felt a little fluffy in the head. But I digress. I think it's the wedding, really, that's making me think about how I'm lousy at being a girl. Everyone's all "c'mon, you gotta look good for your wedding!" And I look at makeup or skin care and think "oh, it might be fun to make myself look a little nicer" and then realize I'm bad at it and everyone else my age is worlds ahead of me. Reminds me of when I was in college and my glamorous friend Steph would dress me up and do my makeup for dances and I came out looking like a completely different person. I used to go blithely through high school inexpertly applying makeup for homecoming and just not caring if it looked wrong; I don't know what changed.
This morning I read about beauty on The Knot and came up with something about exfoliating lips: wet a toothbrush and brush them. Awesome, I thought. I'm always biting them, they could stand to look good, and that's really easy! So I shower, brush my teeth, scrub inexpertly at my mouth, and apply Vaseline. Then I look in the mirror. Voila: shiny, puffy red clown lips. Beauty FAIL.
I should have been a boy.