First it was the hipster glasses, which I'm actually coming to like quite a bit. My brutally honest friend said they were "Awesome!" and that "They make you look younger," which we all know is second only to "They make you look thinner" in the hierarchy of wonderful compliments. Then my hip and cool designer friend said she thought they were great, and not nearly as hipster-looking as she had thought they would be which may be a little bit of a back-handed compliment when I think of it.
But I'm getting used to looking at myself in the mirror and not recoiling, which is the first step toward acceptance. I did, however, notice that the new and bolder look meant that my pared-down make-up routine was not working so well. Put a set of tortoise-shell frames on top of an un-made-up AARP-eligible face and the face disappears entirely.
"You know," I thought yesterday as I looked in the mirror without recoiling and saw only tortoise-shell, "what I really need is some bolder lipstick. Or some lipstick, at all."
Because, yeah, I tend to forget my lipstick on a daily basis.
So while I was spending $300 at the grocery store last night (yay! The Boys and a Lovely Girl are coming home!) I threw a lipstick into the cart. It was red and on sale for $5.99, so I figured I was all set.
Except that when I went to put it on this morning, I noticed that the name of the color was "Hot Passion." A clue, maybe? In the next four seconds I went from this:
Even after wiping off as much of the color as I could (see used Kleenex above, which I can add to the phrases I never thought I would use on my blog) I feel as if I'm the female version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, except that instead of my nose it's my lips that are capable of guiding Santa's sleigh tonight.
Please, don't shout out with glee when you see me.