One night a couple of weeks ago I was scrolling through Facebook and a hair tutorial caught my eye because the girl doing it was just so cute, but also seemed somewhat relatable.
She wasn’t one of those stick-skinny 20-year-olds that look super cute no matter how busted up they are.
No, this girl was a little older and a little curvier and her hairstyle ended up super cute: it was just a basic bob blown out with a tiny bit of sea salt spray and she scrunched her hair up in her hands as she dried it, so it was tousled and airy and just adorable.
I did my hair the same way the next day - it was meet-the-teacher night at my son’s school and I felt cute.
My makeup was on point and my hair looked tousled and airy and just adorable, if I do say freaking so.
As we walked down the hallway at my son’s school, Mark reached over and kind-of smoothed down a piece of hair near my face and had a “look,” but I didn’t pay much attention, as is typical for me, until a little later, when he said to me, “your hair is going every which way.”
Of course I was mortified that all these teachers and parents were getting this first impression of me with my hair “going every which way,” but when I looked in a mirror, I liked what I saw.
My hair looked cute.
Yes, there was an errant tiny ringlet just at the top of my forehead, but it was about 252 degrees in that school and my hair goes curly at the hairline when I sweat, and, for the love of sweet, fancy Moses, I can only do so much with what I’ve got.
I was annoyed with Mark for commenting about my new look, especially because it reminded me of the last time I tried a new look: beachy waves.
That was another time I’d seen a hair tutorial and it was an up-and-coming look that I wanted to participate in.
I did it one day and it looked so freakin cute. It showed off my highlights.
It was very boho, very trendy.
Mark walked in the door that evening after work and said, “Whoa, what happened to your hair?”
I don’t think he means to do me emotional harm. I think he’s just not used to me trying on new looks.
Or maybe I’m too old to be trendy??
I mean - do I not have what it takes?
I’ll be honest with myself and with you, too: no matter how hard I try - and I try like hell - to do a smokey eye, I still come out looking like I’ve been in a bar fight.
There’s nothing worse than getting all dolled up and feeling extra sexy, then having your friend pull you gently off to the side, crinkling their eyebrows together, all concerned and ask, “Hey, are you doing ok?” because your gunmetal-shade eyeshadow has settled under your eyes, giving you a haggard, bone-weary look.
Oh geez - maybe it's that I'm too chubby to be trendy!
I hope that isn't it. I *just* came across this chickadee and I'm in love with her whole vibe.
She's adorable! She's chubby! She's trendy!
I don’t think I’ll stop trying to be trendy. It’s not about anyone else, amiright?
It's not like I'm wearing super-short shorts that are all the rage right now (does it make me sound like a curmudgeon to say that these girls are leaving nothing to the imagination?), or crop-top outfits, for the love.
I just want to try new looks and keep making myself interesting, mkay? If I'm too old or too chubsy or too whatever, then so be it.