I stood in my black bohemian skirt; long and flowy, pulled
tight to my waste so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. The black long-sleeved
shirt I paired it with felt comfortable on my curves and set the back drop for
my handmade multicolor scarf.
“I wouldn’t say frumpy… more like tattered.”
“Tattered?” I asked
“Yeah, but not tattered like homeless. Tattered like, like
homely.”
“Tattered like, I don’t have any style?” I dug some more.
“Yeah.” She nodded with a grin.
I paused with my mouth wide open looking toward the ceiling
of the massive museum. I can take it. I had asked. I really wanted to know what
type of image people were getting of me. The two friends, of whose opinions I
had just asked, stood tall on either side of me, one in patent leather pumps
and the other slumming it in a pair of designer flats.
The curls in their
hair made me wish I had done something to the horsetail slung over my shoulder
in a haphazard braid. I need a trim, I know. A deep conditioning treatment
would do anything but hurt and I understand that. I lower my head and
rationalize the blows just before the next round started.
I was then told that I should continue wearing lip gloss and
that some mascara would do me good. Apparently my cheeks are not rosy enough
and I should apply a little rouge. I was always told I didn’t need make up; I
guess there was an expiration date on that compliment.
How did I come to be homely? I give my roommate advice on
style all the time… she must look terrible.
I took the honest words with a grain of salt. I let them jog
around in my thoughts until the morning. I made plans to jog my body around and
maybe fit into some of my cuter clothes that had been set aside for the season.
This morning we began our discussion in Sunday school on conformity. I found a
place to let the thoughts and words roam. As we went around the table
collecting the experiences from the other adults at the table, I discovered I wasn’t
the only one having issues with personal appearance.
Earlier this evening the urge to shop compelled me to hit up
the nearest retail establishment on the way home from dinner. I bought a pair
of trousers and was about to buy a pair of shoes when I had to stop and think
of who I was buying them for. Comparing myself to everyone in the room and
making plans to please anyone other than the person I am would be against my
non-conformist lifestyle.
All of this considered, I will go get my hair trimmed and
conditioned. I’ll keep my lip gloss close and jog those laps, though the mascara
and the rouge will have to wait.
I left those shoes
there, just to make sure, but if they are still there tomorrow I’ll know they
were meant to be mine.
This was very interesting post, Erica. For one, you are an attractive lady. The level of growth and true beauty is displayed in the creation of meaningful dialogue such as that of self-love. We’ve all reached a relatively rational conclusion on what it means to be beautiful, based on our own circumstances. Some have been swayed and chose to “conform” based on someone else’s ill-advised commentary—an egotistical cliché that one can ‘do a little bit more’. It’s no secret that we can all stand to be healthier in terms of being mindful of what we put in our bodies. Fortunately, I am not alone in the fact that putting on a mask and cute lil clothes (even when one can’t afford them) is not the ‘be all and end all’ of expressing true beauty. It neither builds nor strengthens anything. If you are happy with who you are, just as you are, then that’s all that really matters at the end of the day.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your input Latron. I enjoyed writing this blog because the content matter is so real for so many people... I enjoy hearing what others think :)
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