Of late I have been working diligently on introducing more colour into my life.
My wardrobe has for many years centered around the basic black ensemble. Now I would like to think of it as me striving for the ‘little black dress’ look…simple but stylish, but for many it just initiates the question: why do you wear black all the time?
So this spring I felt the urge to add a splash of blue, some pink, even a flash of magenta to my attire. Look at me people!.. I am stepping out of the box, broadening my horizons! I rather liked the fact that the colour magenta apparently assists in releasing old and outdated patterns of behaviour, thereby enhancing growth and personal development. Yes! That’s it! I am so there!
Or so I thought.
I was at work the other day freshly robed in a top newly purchased. The material seriously felt wonderful against my skin, and the light shade of pink definitely added some colour to my sun starved complexion.
On a bathroom break, I paused for a moment in front of the mirror to primp and preen a wee bit, to fluff my hair, check my make-up, and admire how the new top made me feel, made me look. Hmmmm, let me think, how does that saying go…oh yes: “pride cometh before a fall”.
Finally I grew weary of my own admiration (ha, ha, ha..) and exited the ladies room. I took one, two, maybe three steps tops into the hallway, when a co-worker approached me. That’s how quickly these things happen.
“Hey,” she said as she reached up and lightly touched my cheek. “Would you pay for an ointment that would get rid of these for you?”
I stumbled and felt the fall begin.
“The redness?” I asked nervously. My pale skin does tend towards rosacea, which does bring about concerns and insecurities, so perhaps, hey maybe, she was offering me a remedy. It could happen, right? Little did I know that another insecurity was soon to be added to my carry-on baggage.
“No,” she said. “The bags and the circles, here and there.” She pointed helpfully. “Oh yes,” she continued. “Do I have a product for you!”
I could hear the audible hiss of the air as it leaked slowly out of my bruised ego.
Was I smiling? Was I? Too much maybe.
The day just continued to tumble on down from there. For some strange, twisted reason I decided right after work that it was as good a time as any to go buy a bathing suit. Rubbing salt into the open wound that was my ego perhaps? Was I saying ‘oh yeah, you think that was painful?… wait til you see this?’ Again…maybe. I don’t know, I just don’t know. I am so confused.
Anyhow, the bathing suit immediately, like magic, turned me into a stuffed sausage, right before my eyes…a stuffed sausage with bags under her eyes.
The bathing suit went back the next day, the bags under the eyes, well, they appear to be staying.
And it leaves me to wonder, do people who think they look good every single day, ever, ever, have days like this? Do they? I think not.