When I realized that so many of us were dealing with the same issues of schlub I sent my post over to the awesome ladies at BlogHer to see what a wider audience might suggest. I’m excited that it got picked up for syndication! But even more excited that it might mean someone might have some answers for us when it comes to how to bring our femininity back.
The fantasy, of course, would be Trinny & Susannah AND Stacy & Clinton showing up with a hair and makeup team and a fully loaded gift card to use at some not yet created plus size shopping mecca. My plaid flannel jammies would be tossed into the giant metal trash bin and I would weep under the glare of the bright television lights. There would be a discussion about why I love plaid so much.
[The pattern is so extremely comforting to me, has been for as long as I can remember. On a trip to Scotland I purchased The Original Plaid Boots and it was a defining moment. Like plaid became my brand.]
I will weep big ugly tears about how I mustn’t have plaid taken away from me and Susannah would pull me aside, offer me a lilac scented handkerchief and tell me that I can wear my plaid on the inside. And that now that I am a grown up woman of nearly 35 (holy crap- just over one month away from it!!!) that I can wear plaid in different ways and they will show me how.
Then I will be asked to chuck the rest of my plaid into the trash but will be allowed to keep the boots. The following day I will be set loose into a myriad of shops that will have no clothes in my size. I will buy a plaid belt and via hidden camera I will be mocked and yelled at. In the back of a taxi cab I will cry about how large my thighs are and how unsexy and unfeminine I am.
I will spend the night in a large hotel room missing my family and recording Blair Witch style videos about how unattractive I feel and about what a mistake it was to mention to the internet that I feel schlubby.
The next morning I will wake up feeling groggy but nervous. Trinny, Susannah, Clinton and Stacy will be downstairs waiting in the lobby for me. We link arms and try to exit the large front door of the hotel together. Except we don’t fit. ha ha! We are SO FUNNY! We head to the not yet created plus size mecca and I am whirled around the store as clothes that fit my body type magically appear.
I head to a dressing room excited to try clothes on and am surprised when things fit and I don’t cringe at my body in the mirror.
I will be swirled around by people telling me that I am good enough, smart enough, and dog gone it! People like me! Someone will fetch me cucumber scented water and a chicken salad and then cart me away for a totally painless facial and pedicure.
I will be taken to a citrus scented salon where a studly stylist will consult with me about my thick and unruly wavy hair. I will be given a flattering hair style and then given a three hour lesson on how to duplicate the hair style in seven different ways- and each style would take less than ten minutes to create.
As I wait for hot rollers to cool a team from Nordstrom would shuffle in with a SURPRISE!!! Boxes and boxes of shoes in my totally hard to find size 12. Oh my goodness the shoes would be so beautiful. And they would fit! And not hurt! Even the pointy kind of ones that supposedly make everyone look 20 pounds lighter.
A thick black band would go on my forehead and then a makeup artist would come in with a small bag of tricks and wheel me to a giant mirror where she would show me how to eliminate my dark circles, my chin pimple, and make my face look like the face of a person that got more than five hours sleep. She would also show me how to apply lipstick so that it would stay on all day no matter what so that I could put it on and never have to think about it again.
With my makeup done the hair stylist would come back in and fluff up my hair a bit. Susannah, Trinny, Clinton and Stacy would help me select my reveal outfit- and wouldn’t you know it would feature a pair of red plaid pumps! I would come out from behind a black velvet curtain and would be brought to a floor length mirror where I would see my entire self for the first time in 24 hours. I would wave my eyes so as not to spill tears down my face. I would be beautiful. I would feel it. I would see it.
But something tells me Susannah, Trinny, Clinton and Stacy won’t be calling any time soon…
The interesting thing is that having that bit of fantasy, just imagining all of that activity and excitement- the being pampered, the getting the hair done and new clothes- as I was imagining it I certainly saw myself as feminine in my mind. And that is what I want to get back to. Obviously neither I nor the average person can afford to have a weekend of pampering like the one I imagined. And to be blunt it is hard to even think about saving up for something when times are so lean for my family.
Most of the suggestions you guys mentioned in my original Where does femininity come from post involved buying something- either new clothes or a visit to a hair salon. And since I am single have The Sex isn’t an option right now either.
But I’m going to try to make an effort this week. I’m going to wear my hair down and put on makeup if I leave the house. I’ll report back to you…