I’ve been letting myself go – this pandemic hit me smack in the ‘who gives a shit’. Until a couple of days ago I hadn’t worn makeup for weeks, I’d even started to forego washing my hair every morning, my eyebrows were starting to inch toward each other and the never-talked-about whiskers on my chin were starting to become public knowledge. I was going to hell in a COVID19 hand basket. But not anymore.
I caught my reflection in a large plate glass window the other day – I looked in disbelief at the disheveled, white haired woman in the large try-to-hide-the-fact-you’ve-let-yourself-go sunglasses walking her dog. Aside from the fact the dog was tethered to the woman you could tell it was trying to pretend it wasn’t with her. It’s a real slap in the face when your beloved Boston disowns you in public, mind you with the sudden vision of what the Boston was trying to disown I really couldn’t blame her.
Why, when faced with a challenge like this virus, is it suddenly the fashion to let oneself go? I’ve worn makeup pretty much every day for over half a century. Even back in the day when the kids had to be at the skating rink at the crack of dawn I was up before the crack so I could put my face on before being seen in public. Those same kids never got to go camping because their father couldn’t promise me I’d be able to plug my hair dryer in out in the wild.
I haven’t got a clue what changed, why it’s okay to be out and about looking like I’ve been shot out of a gun. Does pride goeth before a pandemic? It’s like I was sent to my room and have been sulking for the past month.
I think I’ve been in lock down long enough to come to terms with it – who knows how long this will last. Granted only the dogs get close enough to know if I’m wearing mascara and they don’t give a rip – but I do. I catch a glimpse of myself several times during the course of a day and with all the scary stuff going on in the world right now I’ve decided I don’t need to add my reflection into the mix.