For my birthday/weighing-in-the-100s-celebratory dinner with Flaminia ("Fla"), my trainer, a couple of weeks ago, I wore make-up for the first time in decades. In fact, most of my friends have never seen me in make-up. My best friend, Joyce, who's known me since I was 18 years old said, "Oh, my God, it's been so long since I've seen you dolled up, I don't think I'd recognize you!"
When
I was younger, I wouldn't leave the house unless my hair and make-up were
perfection. It'd take me at least an
hour to reach this perfection and it was time I always scheduled into my daily
routine. Even though I love to sleep in,
I'd get up earlier than necessary so I could fix myself up before work or
school. As I got older, fatter, and more
depressed about the way I looked, I was lucky if I washed my hair. When I didn't, I'd wear it in a pony
tail. But then again even when I did wash my hair, it'd end up in a pony tail anyway.
That was another reason I never got any special haircut, it'd end up in a pony tail anyway. I just didn't care what I looked like.
What was the point? Like I said
in "What it means to be 'morbidly obese,' " you wear your obesity in
your face, your hands, your arms - it's something you just can't hide. For me, make-up wasn't going to make things any
better.
Luckily,
I was graced with good skin and thank God for that because I didn't do anything
special to wash my face every day either.
Just water when I showered was good enough. I didn't use creams or gave myself facials,
let alone paid for professional facials.
Again, what was the point. I
hated how I looked.
The
best I could do for my "beauty routine" was to shower and brush my
teeth daily and wash my hair whenever.
When you don't feel good about yourself or your life, your appearance
reflects that. Your appearance doesn't matter. At least with me it
didn't.
It's
interesting how our outer shell reflects what we feel inside. When we feel good about ourselves and life
overall, we start taking care of ourselves, we want to look good for ourselves
and the world. After I lost a
considerable amount of weight, I found myself wanting to look better. It wasn't a conscious effort where I thought,
"Once I lose XX pounds, I'm going to start taking care of myself." Instead, it was a matter of wanting to reflect
my inner happiness on the outside, too. Just as it was a gradual change when I stopped taking care of myself as the scale numbers kept climbing, the new me experienced a gradual improvement as my body kept shrinking. I found this to be a fascinating new change in me, but I just went with it.
Suddenly I chopped off my hair into a flattering do a few months ago and I rarely don a pony tail now, especially in public. Then I realized that I was starting to wear bright colors, shirts splashed with flowers and other attractive designs and no longer gravitated to my usual drab grays, blacks, and other solid dark colors. Additionally, I stopped buying baggy shirts and felt comfortable wearing more body-hugging tops. The next step was to start wearing jewelry (nothing fancy) again which I hadn't done in a long time.
Then I found myself wanting to wear make-up, too. Years ago I threw out whatever products I had because everything was old so I had to go out and buy new stuff. Initially, I bought a few things at the local market, but soon enough I found myself at the make-up counters at Macy's looking for brand products. I even allowed a very young man to make me over while sitting at his make-up counter. He reminded me of Boy George from the 80s because he had a small beard and was wearing make-up (he was really pretty and had gorgeous eyes) and I felt like I was in my 20s because of it. I had a lot of fun with him, too, even though I didn't like how I looked after he was done.
And get this: Fla always accuses me of being "dramatic" whenever we train and I groan or collapse on the floor in a heap of sweat. Whenever she calls me dramatic, I tell her, "I thought we already established that I am!" A few months ago it got back to me that an ex coworker I hadn't seen in a couple of years told people that he didn't recognize me because my weight-loss was "dramatic." When I bought eye shadow from Boy George, the particular color I chose just happened to be called "Drama." A few days later I bought mascara from another Macy's (at this point I'm going all over town looking for the right products) and the particular type I chose turned out to be "Hypnose Drama." I told Fla, "See? Everyone knows I'm dramatic, they're even naming products for me now!"
Then I found myself buying face cleansers, face masks, and face creams which I've been using. I even bought a little home face steamer to give myself facials which I use periodically to give myself a treat.
For my dinner with Fla, it had been so long since I applied make-up that I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. Adding to the problem, I purchased an expensive eye liner pencil which turned out to be a nightmare to use. It was like a crayon and the tip kept breaking off and once applied, it was nearly impossible to remove which would've been fine if I had applied it correctly in the first place. I made such a mess of it that I ended up with black markings all over the place including my fingers, hands, and shirt. I nearly gave up right then and there. I felt like a toddler who had been finger painting. The whole time I kept saying out loud, "Good grief! How can this be so difficult!?!" I later returned the pencil and bought a cheapie one at the local drug store that worked a million times better. In any case, that night I managed to finish without much more trouble.
My face nowadays is more wrinkled and sags due to age and weight loss so applying make-up to that face is no fun. I feel like a Shar-pei, those dogs with wrinkly faces. Try putting make-up on this face:
Suddenly I chopped off my hair into a flattering do a few months ago and I rarely don a pony tail now, especially in public. Then I realized that I was starting to wear bright colors, shirts splashed with flowers and other attractive designs and no longer gravitated to my usual drab grays, blacks, and other solid dark colors. Additionally, I stopped buying baggy shirts and felt comfortable wearing more body-hugging tops. The next step was to start wearing jewelry (nothing fancy) again which I hadn't done in a long time.
Then I found myself wanting to wear make-up, too. Years ago I threw out whatever products I had because everything was old so I had to go out and buy new stuff. Initially, I bought a few things at the local market, but soon enough I found myself at the make-up counters at Macy's looking for brand products. I even allowed a very young man to make me over while sitting at his make-up counter. He reminded me of Boy George from the 80s because he had a small beard and was wearing make-up (he was really pretty and had gorgeous eyes) and I felt like I was in my 20s because of it. I had a lot of fun with him, too, even though I didn't like how I looked after he was done.
And get this: Fla always accuses me of being "dramatic" whenever we train and I groan or collapse on the floor in a heap of sweat. Whenever she calls me dramatic, I tell her, "I thought we already established that I am!" A few months ago it got back to me that an ex coworker I hadn't seen in a couple of years told people that he didn't recognize me because my weight-loss was "dramatic." When I bought eye shadow from Boy George, the particular color I chose just happened to be called "Drama." A few days later I bought mascara from another Macy's (at this point I'm going all over town looking for the right products) and the particular type I chose turned out to be "Hypnose Drama." I told Fla, "See? Everyone knows I'm dramatic, they're even naming products for me now!"
Then I found myself buying face cleansers, face masks, and face creams which I've been using. I even bought a little home face steamer to give myself facials which I use periodically to give myself a treat.
For my dinner with Fla, it had been so long since I applied make-up that I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. Adding to the problem, I purchased an expensive eye liner pencil which turned out to be a nightmare to use. It was like a crayon and the tip kept breaking off and once applied, it was nearly impossible to remove which would've been fine if I had applied it correctly in the first place. I made such a mess of it that I ended up with black markings all over the place including my fingers, hands, and shirt. I nearly gave up right then and there. I felt like a toddler who had been finger painting. The whole time I kept saying out loud, "Good grief! How can this be so difficult!?!" I later returned the pencil and bought a cheapie one at the local drug store that worked a million times better. In any case, that night I managed to finish without much more trouble.
My face nowadays is more wrinkled and sags due to age and weight loss so applying make-up to that face is no fun. I feel like a Shar-pei, those dogs with wrinkly faces. Try putting make-up on this face:
Fla keeps telling me I need to start dating again and has been threatening (yes, threatening) to set up a match.com profile for me. I told her if she does, SHE will be the one dating the guy, assuming anyone would even respond. The last thing I need right now is a man in my life to complicate my emotional crazy side that I'm still trying to rein in. For my dinner with Fla, I decided to get dolled up because she's only seen me red-faced, sweating, drooling, coughing, panting, and being "dramatic." I figured she's already seen me at my worst, so no matter what I did with that make-up, it'd probably be an improvement. When I was getting ready for our dinner, trying to figure out how to apply the products on my face and struggling with that eye liner, I was thinking, "Good Lord! If I'm going through all this trouble just for Fla, how much more work would it be to go on a date with a man!"
Seeing myself in the mirror wearing make-up is a shocker to me. To see color on my face like eye shadow and lipstick? I actually have eyelashes thanks to mascara? It feels weird. I told my friends I didn't know if I looked like a clown or a hooker. I've ventured out twice wearing make-up to meet friends for lunch this past week and I kept asking them, "Do I look okay with make-up or do I look like an old hooker from the bad side of Vegas?" They tell me that no, I look terrific, but then again they're my friends and who knows if they're telling me the truth.
At one of the markets I visit regularly for my groceries, one of the cashiers wears a ton of make-up in every conceivable color - at the same time. She looks absolutely ridiculous. I can't describe how she applies her make-up except suffice it to say that it looks clownish, like a Halloween costume of some unknown reference. The lady is really sweet, but obviously she has no clue how she looks. Maybe she's color blind. Who knows.
As I venture out in public with my face all colored up, I keep wondering if people think of me as I think of that cashier. I
don't know which would be worse, to look like a clown or an old hooker. In any case, I hope someone tells me if I
look like either so I can stop making a fool of myself out in public. In the meantime, I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and hope for the best!
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