But I continued to think over the topic today and I came to the conclusion that I cut, color, wax, make-up, -- I'd like to say exercise but we all know that would be a lie -- not in an effort to conform to society's standards, but in an effort to make myself look like I used to -- when I was young and dewy and my head was not besmirched by grays.
Then later, I was emailing back and forth with Niki over at Impostor Mom and she recounted a very small portion of a story in which she lost half an eyebrow to a waxing gone wrong -- at least I'm assuming it was gone wrong since one generally doesn't WANT to lose half an eyebrow. And her story made me think about all the times I suffered for beauty or had some cosmetic related disaster befall me.
- Of course we all remember the lip liner from hell perpetrated on me by the Henri Bendel consultant.
- One time I went to have my upper lip waxed. Occasionally, fluctuations in hormones give me a little bit of a 'stache so I went to have that taken care of. The girl was new and instead of placing the wax all the way across my upper lip, she just put it on either side of the philtrum
- Once when I was in college, my friends and I visited the local cosmetology school because we heard you could get a $5 manicure. So we went and the very nervous girl filed my nails and stuck them in some liquid (You're soaking in it!). After my fingers were all pruney she confessed "I'm not very good at painting nails. You can do it yourself if you want." Um. If I was any good at painting my own nails I wouldn't be here asking you to do it. But she was right. She wasn't very good and I did end up painting them myself.
- And probably the pièce de résistance was the time I went to a very chichi salon in Hilton Head, SC, to a stylist who had trained at Vidal Sassoon in London, to get my very trendy, very chunky highlights. I asked for two very blonde, very thick streaks on either side of my face. I wanted funky. Cool. This is what I got:
When he dried my hair, I didn't have two blonde streaks on either side. I had two WHITE streaks on either side. Very damaged white streaks I might add. Hair so damaged, in fact, that a big chunk broke right off a day later. I went back to the salon and he told me he couldn't help me. He told me he thought I wanted "dramatic". Well, shit. I did. But not The Munsters! One of the other stylists took pity on me and tried to put some color back with some kind of rinse but it didn't really help. I ended up chopping most of it off a few months later because the hair was so damaged.
Those are just a few of the times I suffered for beauty. I'm sure there have been others. And I'm sure there'll be more. But hopefully not too many. Anyone want to share their horror stories?