In time honoured fashion, I squeezed in the usual hair/nails/wax appointment in today, all organised before skipping onto a plane tomorrow, to head to the Digital Parents Conference in Melbourne.
I am lucky - I have my girls who "do me", so to speak, in Paradise - and they know me well. My nails - I get them done regularly by the very lovely Claudia. and she and I enjoy an hour over my refills, of coffee and gossip and acrylic. (My au natrel nails are actually lovely and long and strong - I get a coat of acrylic slapped over the top out of habit - Charlie's eczema used to bleed with my nails - falsies are a lot softer.)
Claudia also casts her eyes over my toes (which met with her approval.) Bright red "toe paint" as the kids call it.
My top lip also gets some attention from the hot wax...I am a furry Mumma - as I get older, my top lip gets hairier and darker. Off with it, I say!
I should point out that I never ever spent any time or attention on myself or my appearance when I was grossly over-weight. Now that I am a little bit slimmer, I do care, and I do like to bother. I do enjoy pampering myself. I am not vain, but I revel in making the best of what I've got. And I like to feel groomed. I suspect I never did before because I was reticent to try and make a silk purse out of a cows ear or whatever the analogy is. But these days, whilst I am still on the chunky side, I do believe I am worth the effort.
That said, I am shamelessly shallow and ALWAYS make an effort when heading to a conference. It's my confidence trick. If I know I am all groomed and taken care of, I fret less. Simple as that.
Until I let my hairdresser lose on my hair.
It was long and dry and frizzy and I wanted "A CHANGE". Oh fuck, why did I say that out loud? To her? MAD!
I am now sheared. Shorn. Short hair.
The lovely husband loves long hair.
If I was dumb founded as I peered at myself in the hairdressers mirror, he was struck dumb as he came home tonight. Eventually, he just squeaked "What happened to you hair?" What indeed.
I was aiming for a sexy kind of Meg Ryan tussled just got out of bed sexy look.
My aim was poor.
I just look like a boy.
(Never mind. Only five weeks between a bad haircut and it getting better?)
Only I am going to a conference tomorrow, to speak in front of a gazillion faces, about blogging and my about my self image.
So, if I do see you at DPCON12 and you are tempted to say or think "who is that bloke?", please tell me my hair doesn't actually look as bad as I fear?!
|I am attending DPCON thanks to Kitchenware Direct. They are lovely. Go have a look?|