Brow

I have a gray hair in my right eyebrow, so I fully expect to wake up tomorrow 200 years old and wearing a diaper. 

This gray hair has lived rent-free in my head for days. I want to pluck it out, but all I keep thinking of is how my grandma told me that if I shave the hair off my arms, it will grow back thicker and darker. If this is true, which it must be because my grandma said it, then if I pluck my gray brow hair, I will wake up with fully gray brows and even a head full of gray hair. 

I am shocked at how vain I have become in middle age, and I have spoken to you about this before. I guess it is easy to sit on your youthful skin high horse when the reality of becoming a dehydrated raisin is so far away. My friends look so good! What if I meet up with them for homecoming or something, and people confuse me for their great-grandmother? Can you imagine a more heartbreaking situation, you know, outside of famine, abuse, and poverty?

I was on social media today and saw a picture of Charles Christmas. He has gray in his beard, and he looks so sexy. I have one gray hair in my eyebrow, and I look like Mother Earth. 

I need to allow my anxiety to settle about this before I mess around and do something nutty like shave my whole eyebrow off. At least if I have a bald brow, that may take attention away from the small frown line that I think I have coming in. 

Aunty and the Bras

My aunt recently had a minor breast surgery and, as part of her recovery plan, she had to buy these granny bras that clasp in the front. Three days into her recovery she says, "I like these bras! I need to get some more of these!"

I frowned. You gotta see these bras. They only come in two colors: About To Die White and Elderly Tan.

"No you don't! These bras are too old for you!" I cried. "They are for 90-year-old grannies with Arthritis who can't reach their back bra clasps!"

"But they are sooooo cozy!" she said, doing a little spin. 

These bras are as unsexy as they come. They are perfect for the old lady who has confidently given up any type of cuteness for functionality. My aunt is only 60. Today's 60-year-old women are going on cruises, learning line dances, and dating guys half their age, not embracing the bereavement bra. 

Ladies: have you noticed that your commitment to comfort unintentionally correlates to the rate in which your sexy is slipping? I noticed the slip for me in my mid-30s. I didn't feel as pressed to paint my nails or put on lipstick when I went out. What for? By the time Covid had chewed me up and spit me out, I was as concerned with being cute as I was with learning to fly. 

No woman wants to be viewed as ancient and unbangable, but if that's coming down the pipes anyway, why not welcome it in bloomer panties, oversized night shirts, house shoes, hair rollers, and no-bang bras? Ideally, as a woman, you want to hold on to your hot for as long as possible, but if it can't be done, what are you gonna do?🤷 I know what I'm going to eventually do: lounge in my bonnet while I admire my unpainted nails. 

Big Rudith Energy

I talked to Rudith this evening. She told me she went to Sephora to get some makeup and asked the saleslady how old she looked. This lady said she thought she was 28 or 32. She said she was going off of Rudith's energy. This made me laugh. This same woman would have probably thought that I was 65. 

The women in my life are moisturized, thriving, and surviving, do you hear me? They are meditating, doing spin class, hiking up stuff, attending screenings and dinners. Their complexions are clear, and their smiles are bright. Outside of the fact that they have obviously taken care of themselves, I do believe that they have the energy that the salelady was talking about. They seem excited, which is a quality that I think SCREAMS youth because when you get older, you realize rather quickly that there is nothing, nothing to be excited about. Sometimes, when I see their energies breaking through my phone screen, I want to roll over and cough. 

Having great energy takes a lot of energy to maintain, and I don't have the energy needed to flip on a light switch. However, if I am going to look 28 at 41, it may be worth a try. After much consideration, I think that I can offer the energy gods a full spin in my driveway before coming back in the house. I will make more of an effort to be chipper. That will include, but is not limited to, not groaning for no reason during phone calls, not getting up and immediately falling into a slouch, and no longer screaming into my pillow for no reason. Can that be enough to be forever young? I am really trying here! Because if I can no longer be young, which is fine, I at least want to look it. 

Show Improve

The other night, I mentioned to Coffee that I don't know how to walk in heels. He told me that when he was hiring an etiquette coach for his daughter, the first thing she asked was if his daughter could walk in heels. He suggested I consider hiring a woman like that to teach me to walk in heels and help me with any other things I may want to improve. 

This may sound a little negative, but I don't often think of improvement probably because I am not really sure anything changes. I have always felt kind of doomed and stuck where I am. Early on, once I realized that I'd never be small or anything resembling petite, I just figured there was no point. I'd never be cute. I'd never like my body and neither would anyone else. I'd never be ladylike. I would always be a bull in a China shop, and that was just the long and short of it. As weird as it may sound, I never took the idea seriously that I could actually improve myself, even on little things, to get as close as possible to the me I told myself I'd never be. It was all or nothing, and since I was never going to be all, I'd have to settle for nothing. This attitude has spilled over to most aspects of my life, and if you are thinking that this can't be a productive way to live, you are thinking right. 

If I'm being honest, general low self-esteem, energy, and motivation have also played a part in my stagnancy. I went to college with this AKA that really had it together. I mean, she always looked so polished and feminine and professional, even in jeans and a t-shirt. I secretly idolized this girl, and she was a vivid example of what my grandma was talking about when she would preach to me about being presentable. I mean, she was elegant, even at 19! So, in an attempt to improve myself, I revaluated everything; hair, hygiene, makeup, my walk. All of it. And I came up with an honest and ambitious plan to make some changes. However, when it was time to execute this plan, I lost the teaspoon of juice in my battery. What was the point? I'd just be a lipstick wearing version of the mess I already was and everyone would see through my attempt at self improvement. I canceled my new me plans and sank comfortably into my old me, cuddled in sadness, disappointment, and functional depression. 

Now, I'm middle-aged and still daydreaming of a better version of me because it feels so far away. Where would I even start now? Why would I even start now? Maybe to enjoy a brighter type of me before I die and clock out for good. I guess I'd have to muster up the gusto to get my one pair of heels out the back of the closet. Does anyone know where you can get cheap gusto? I'm on a budget. 

A Wrinkle in Face

Today, a nurse told me that I have a baby face. This is something that I have been told my whole life. I guess that is why I was so dramatically devastated when I found my first wrinkle in the corner of my mouth. 

"That is not a wrinkle, that is a crease," my aunt said, observing my face closely. Isn't that what a wrinkle is? A disgusting, unwelcome crease?

I have discussed before how full of myself I was in my 20s. I thumbed my nose at any type of plastic surgery. I felt sorry for women who would permanently change their faces. I even got holy with it, saying that it was a sin because we are all made in God's image. Getting so much as a nose job was like telling God that you thought He was ugly, or at the very least, could have done a better job. My tune has changed over the past few years. If my looks begin to fall off, I want every plastic surgeon in Georgia with even an ounce of talent to tap dance on my face! 

Years ago, I saw an interview with the late, great Joan Rivers. And she said that the only thing that mattered was looking good. I won't say that it is the only thing that matters, but it is important, and admitting this is a testimony of the world's vanity as well as our own. I am very realistic with myself. Some may even say that I am harsh with myself. I know that I am very overweight. I know that some changes have to be made there. But I have always thought I was pretty, even when others made it clear that they did not. I even find that my prayers are changing. I pray that God protect the world and bring peace, and also bring peace and protection to my face. Amen. 

Like many middle-aged women before me, I have begun to research facial products and what would work best for me. I am finding myself on the side of any snake oil that says anti-aging right in the title. There's no time to play, gotta get to work. I committed to letting this first wrinkle be the last. 

Hands

There is a lot to worry about in the world today.  Politics. Climate change. Food scarcity. And as a woke person, I try to stay abreast and worried about everything. However, I find that lately, I am most worried most about my hands. I fear that they are prematurely aging. 

When I was a kid, I used to watch infomercials like they were actual TV shows, especially ones where old White women talked about mail order beauty treatments. And I remember one lady talking about how important it is to make sure that your hands remain youthful. According to her, you could look like The Crypt Keeper, but if your hands were wrinkle-free, people would assume you were 22. I recall looking at my own plump, juicy 2nd grade hands that still had some baby pudge too them, wondering how ones hands get old. Easily apparently. 

I already have man hands, so I'm not excited about having old man hands, but this is all my fault. In college, my roommate and I used to clean our shower with this really strong cleaner. It was the only thing that would get our dirty foot prints from walking in flip flops around New Orleans out of the shower floor. One day, I recall looking at my hands after a cleaning with a raised eyebrow. My hands looked about two years older. Now I'm 41, scared I'm going to wake up with granny hands. 

If that is my future, it is what it is. I'm scared to use any hand products out of fear they will make things worse. This could be a great opportunity to consider some chic glove options. 

Homecoming Post 1: Envying Scalene

I decided to take a break from watching sex scenes in F-grade Tubi movies long enough to go to homecoming this year. I was a little apprehensive about going for several reasons, but was very excited once I arrived. The atmosphere was electric, so I happily walked onto campus and smack dab into Scalene. There are some women so attractive that they make other women feel like dirt by merely existing, and that woman is Scalene for me. Of course, I'd run into her while having the worst hair day of my life. 

"Hey beautiful!" she exclaimed, giving me a hug. 

Beautiful. The nerve of this chick. Where does she get off calling me beautiful? 

"Hey girl!" I said through clenched teeth. 

You will be excited to know that she looks younger now than she did in college, and she has become one of those insufferable 40-year-old women who wear crop tops. But why wouldn't she be? In college, she was already prettier than most of us and had a better body, yet she wore perfect makeup just to step on our necks. I didn't see her husband there, but don't get excited. They are still together. However, not seeing him made me think of her college boyfriend, whom I was in love with, along with 99 other guys. 

"I'm going to take him from you," I'd said jokingly, not jokingly, to her back in the day in the cafe. 

She smiled at me and said, "You should try it." Then she bit down on a French fry and winked at me. Can we just have a moment to meditate on how obnoxious that was?

But even that could be forgiven if she'd get fat, just once. I feel like that would give me the spiritual healing that I so desperately need. Her success, cheery disposition, and positive attitude definitely aren't doing the trick. 

I can hear you all now. "But Holly, if there are things about yourself you don't like, why not work on those things instead of investing time in being envious of others?" I hear that. And to that I say, "Bite me." Saturday, I watched her twerk with her friends while I kicked myself for not bringing Tiger Balm to lather my knees with. Bite. Me. 

All and all, I was happy that I got to see old Scalene and do some catching up. Envious or not, it's always a pleasure to see a Xavier sister looking and doing well. 

Eyelift

When I was a teenager, I had a habit of being very, VERY, convicted about issues that I was not educated enough or old enough to understand. One of the issues was plastic surgery. If we are made in God's image, getting plastic surgery (unless you underwent a severe facial trauma) was like telling God that he is ugly! I decided long ago I would never have any type of plastic surgery done. Fast forward to today. If my looks fall off, I want every plastic surgeon in Atlanta to tap dance on my face! Plastic surgery would not be ideal, but I have been thinking about it a lot since I think that I need an eyelift. 

I have always had straight, poofy eyelids. This is something called monolid (which I just found out now as I am writing this post). Essentially, I do not have the crease that separates my eyelid into two parts. For those of you who can't envision this, I do not have that part of my eyelid where women usually put on eye shadow. I guess I do, but it is very, very thin. Many Asian people have this type of eyelid, hence why people have asked me if I am partially Asian my whole life! 

The other day, I looked in the mirror and felt like my lids were looking a little more poof than usual. I had spent the weekend babysitting and did not have restful sleep. However, when they were still poofy the next day, I became fearful. Since I don't have a substantial eye crease, what if my eyes eventually poof shut and I have to keep my lids open with my hands?

As silly as this sounded, I became obsessed with my eyes. Is it possible to become a super poof and not be able to see? I really began to panic! And then a word came to mind that calmed my nerves: eyelift. Yes, an eyelift! A simple, medical miracle! And I don't mean putting some lotion on my lids that should lift them in a year or two, I mean good old-fashioned scalpel magic! And if I don't have the money for it, I will use invisible tape to lift my lids as close to my hairline as possible. 

Wheeeeew! Crisis averted. 

Ladylike

When I was a kid, even during my tomboy years, I would see older women who weren't all dolled up and wonder what happened to them. It wasn't that they presented as masculine, but more like gender neutral beings that gave up on makeup and any type of form-fitting frocks. They would tend to have on varying combinations of clothing that gave them the potato sack look. Many had even traded in stylish sneakers for colorless, drab foot coverings with no laces. I realize now that at some point these women had just given up. For some reason, keeping up appearances can register as just too much for some women as they age. 

All the way up until my grandma was diagnosed with dementia, she pressed her hair daily and wore pressed powder. She was in her '80s. I find it difficult to find the strength to paint my nails, which I always loved doing, and I just turned 40. Before Beyonce made it popular, my grandma used to tell me that being pretty hurt, referring to the figurative and literal pain of keeping yourself up as a woman. Now that I get the full scope, I have to applaud women who put in the effort because it is a lot. 

My closet is full of dresses. Pretty ones I used to love to put on and literally spin around in. Making sure I had a nice collection of summer dresses used to be my thang. Now I have to stop myself from Googling where I can get some potato sack gear. I don't want to lose my desire to be feminine, but I've been hearing the sound of men's sweat pants calling my name. I see married women with kids and jobs on social media who still put forth the effort. Amazing! I'd be rocking back and forth in a corner wearing a bedsheet. 

In an effort to keep it sexy I have decided that today I will put on chapstick. Maybe staying connected to my feminine self starts off with a series of baby steps. 

Picture Imperfect

So a friend of mine asked if it was cool if she tried to hook me up with her husband's friend. Apparently, she got the idea that this may be a good idea after hearing me complain about my loneliness during my Zoom birthday party. I have to say that I am shocked. None of my friends have ever tried to hook me up with anyone ever not ever not once. I lie. My freshman year of college, Big Homie Sans tried to hook me up with this dude named Carl. She figured that it was a match made in purgatory because we were both fat. He was...interesting. Imagine Egor from Winnie The Pooh with an afro. Boy, this was one unhappy guy. Lucky for me, I am into unhappy people. He wasn't into me though. After innocently calling him on New Year's of 2004 to wish him a happy holiday, he very aggressively rejected me like a poorly transplanted kidney. So again I was shocked when my friend circled back and asked if it was okay to give dude my social media handles. WHAT? Of course! I then went to my Instagram just because. Yikes. 

There is nothing about my social media that displays me as hot. There is nothing about my social media that displays me as sexy. There is nothing about my social media that displays me as interesting, fun, cute, bangable, or remotely smashable at all! The only thing my IG makes clear is that I exist. That. Is. It. I scrolled through three years of pics and I was so disappointed. There was not one picture that would make me want to get to know me if I was a man. A man or even a woman looking for a platonic bestie! I don't have not one pic of me posted on the hood of a luxury vehicle. There are no pics of me smiling seductively at my fancily plated dinner. No pic of me from the back, standing with my hands outstretched on top of a mountain. It's depressing!

"You don't want a guy who wants you for your pics. You want a man that wants to get to know you," said Tiesha. What a good friend. She had time for my bellyaching even as she recovered from COVID. But she was mistaken and had no room to talk. All of her pictures, even the most casual ones, make it clear that she has a showstopping rack and good skin. 

"I am going to call Von and see if I can get booked for one of his sexy, boudoir photoshoots," I grumped into the phone. I was half kidding. Even if I had the $3 Trillion bucks to book the shoot, I'm not that excited about a guy I went to college with seeing me hogtied in a thong. Tiesha let out a sigh/moan/cough. I don't think she was crazy about the idea either. 

When I was too young to understand what she was talking about, an older woman in my grandma's retirement home told me in a hushed voice that men are visual creatures. I guess she thought to tell me this after watching me rub melted chocolate across my t-shirt and the lap of my jeans. I hope that this is not true, for I haven't taken a flattering pic in years! How does Megan the Stallion do it? Rubi Rose? Oprah? On top of this, my desire to get dressed up and be presentable dies with every passing day! But now that I am aware that folks are out here asking for socials...God, why do I even still care? If a picture is worth a thousand words, a few of mine are over it and exhausted with the process. 

Sea Salt & Sunshine Recipe from Jana Blankenship

Dry skin is a nightmare for so many of us during the fall and winter months. Luckily, Jana Blankenship, founder of Captain Blankenship products and author of Wild Beauty: Wisdom & Recipes for Natural Self-Care, has the recipe for smooth, hydrated cold weather skin. 

Sea Salt & Sunshine Scrub Recipe 

YIELD: 8 OUNCES

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup fine sea salt, or mix of fine and medium grain
• 1⁄4 cup coconut oil, or more as desired
• 1⁄2 teaspoon vitamin E
• 20 drops sweet orange essential oil
• 10 drops lemongrass essential oil
• Optional: 1 tablespoon shea butter

 

ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT

8-ounce glass jar with lid

 

INSTRUCTIONS

Mix ingredients together in bowl with spoon. (If coconut oil is hard, you can melt quickly and add to mixture once cool. If you want to add shea butter for even more nourishment, do the same thing.)

Once mixed, with spoon, scoop scrub into jar with lid.

Use once or twice weekly or as desired; by rubbing salt with dry, clean fingers in circular motion all over body and feet.

Rinse well.

If stored out of direct sunlight, will keep for up to a year (if water is kept out of jar).

Let's Face It

At the risk of sounding vain I am just going to go ahead and say it: I want to look cute forever. And at the risk of sounding full of myself I am just going to say this: I don't even want to live in a world where I am not adorable. Having been the biggest girl in the room for my whole life, my million dollar face has been the one thing that has gotten me a seat at the couple of tables I have been invited to. You would think my personality would be the show winner but, believe it or not, a lot of people don't take to loud overweight girls that enjoy having open and honest conversations about vaginal hygiene at the dinner table. Go figger. 

Where is this all coming from? Well, I have talked to you all before about how worried I have been about my skin since I turned 30. Gone are the days of me having an effortless complexion. My pores are getting larger, and I need a moisturizer like a fat kid needs cake. On social media, girls that I went to high school and college with are looking ten years younger than they did when I met them. And since I am not ashamed to admit that my face is the one good thing I have going for me you know, outside of my brain, I can't afford to let it go. Let's be honest,  I let my body go in the 3rd grade happily and without effort once I started wearing a bra. Since I am not really excited about getting things injected into my face or having appearance altering surgery, I have to keep this face tight and right. 

Tortilla has great skin, but she uses those trillion buck Korean skin potions you can order from Sephora. I am currently using a scrub that I got out of a gift bag. I like it though, it smells like sweet potatoes! But it is going to take more than sweet potatoes to keep my skin on the up-and-up. I watched a Youtube nighttime skincare tutorial that included seven products, so I guess I have to step it up. I guess I was naive for assuming I could keep my face from cracking off of shower gel and Vaseline. 

At this moment, I would just like to express how pissed I am at men. They can look like something the cat dragged in and women will still be beating their doors down as long as they have a good paying job and health insurance. What is a poor girl like me to do? Home chemical peels with hot bacon grease and a plastic knife?

Well, I guess there is nothing left to do but enjoy my face while it is still here. Beyonce said that pretty hurts, but she forgot to tell us that it also fades. But there will be no fading over here, not yet, as long as I have my bacon grease. 

20

I had to go to the doctor recently. I HATE going to the doctor. But I didn't have a choice! I needed more blood pressure medicine and, sadly, you can't buy it off the street.
I don't like going to the doctor for all of the usual, expected reasons. Fear of bad news. Cold doctor fingers. Fear of bad news.
Well, during my checkup I was informed of something unexpected and yes, even unbelievable. I have lost 20 pounds!
"What?" I asked the nurse, confused.
"You have lost 20 pounds since the last time you were here."
"Oh...What?" I asked again, not sure I understood what she was saying.
"You have lost weight," she said slowly.
"Oh." I still didn't get it.
It wasn't until the Lyft ride home that I understood the magnitude of what she had said. I. Me. I had lost weight! This is a big deal because I have never lost weight in my life! I have consistently been getting fatter since birth! I had actually begun to believe that I could not lose weight. I mean, I have joined gyms and drank smoothies. As a teen, I even flirted with anorexia and managed to gain weight! What would happen if I went 20 by 20 and began to lose hundreds of pounds?
Don't worry. I am still going to be your friend even though I am now skinny. I wish I could tell you that I lost 20 pounds with diet and exercise but sadly, it had more to do with stress and loneliness. Regardless, it is my 20 pounds and I am taking it like I can get it! How stressed and lonely do you guys think I would have to get to lose 200?

Impressing the Impressive

As you know, I mentor teen girls. Last Saturday, after the mentor meeting, one of my favorite girls, Kyra, told me that she wants to take out her braids but is scared to because she knows that boys like girls with long hair and her real hair is short.
"What does it matter what boys like? What do you like?" I asked my 15-year-old friend.
"I want to cut all my hair off," she said, honestly. But we both knew that that wasn't going to happen. It takes a very brave teenage girl to go bald.
"Well, you should do what you want to do with your hair because you want to do it, not because you want a boy to like you," I advised, something I wish someone would have told me when I was 15 during my black lipstick and cornrows faze.
Fast forward a day to Sunday. I woke up early before my writing group to put on eyeshadow because I noticed that New Ryan talked to two women after the last meeting that had on makeup. And if New Ryan likes it, I love it!
It was only after I saw myself in the mirror putting on pink eyeshadow that I hadn't used in over a year that I realized that I was no different than Kyra, only I was sadder because she is 15 and I am less than a month away from 34. I should know better.
Do you ever outgrow wanting to impress someone you find impressive? At the rate I fall for dudes, I don't think I have enough eyeshadow to take me into the next phase of my life. I hear that after 50 you stop caring as much. By then, fingers crossed, my armpit hair will be growing out of the top of my wool turtleneck and I can finally be free to be me. Until then, eyeshadow it is. But if anyone asks, I'm not wearing it because I'm thirsty. I'm wearing it because I want to.

Create the Look: Letitia Wright x bareMinerals at The Emmy's

The Look:

Inspiration: Letitia's gorgeous gown featured great shine and texture which immediately inspired Celebrity Makeup Artist Tasha Brown to give Letitia peachy and bronze tones to keep her looking ethereal to match her dress. Tasha added soft, arched brows and golden eyeshadow with a natural skin finish, added glowing shimmery highlights on the cheekbones and eyelids.

How to Get the Look:

Skin

Tasha prepped Letitia’s skin by saturating her cleansed face with bareMinerals Complexion Rescue Defense to create a smooth moisturized canvas for makeup. She then applied bareMinerals Original Loose Powder Foundation with SPF 15 in shade Golden Dark with the bareMinerals Beautiful Finish Foundation Brush in a tapping motion through the center of Letitia’s face for light coverage, creating an even base for the rest of her makeup.

Cheeks

Tasha used a sheer layer of bareMinerals BarePRO Glow Highlighter in Fierce to highlight the tops of Letitia’s cheekbones, center of nose and chin for a bit of glow and dimension. To add a healthy flush of color, Tasha lightly dusted bareMinerals’s Gen Nude Powder Blush in That Peach Tho along the hairline, on temples and on cheeks with a large fluffy brush. 

Eyes

Tasha applied the deep bronze tones of the bareMinerals Gen Nude Eyeshadow Palette in Neutral all over the eyelid to better complement the color of Leticia’s gown. 

Lips

Tasha finished off the lips without a liner for a softer edge to the lips and applied bareMinerals Gen Nude Lip Lacquer Buttercream Lipgloss in Flirt for a soft nude peach with sheen to match the sheen of the gown. 

Where to Find Them:

bareMinerals products are available at bareMinerals boutiques and bareMinerals.com. Also available at Sephora, Sephora inside JCPenny, ULTA, Macy’s, Dillards, fine spas and salons. Visit bareminerals.com for store locations.

#CleanBeauty #PowerofGood #bareMinerals

@bareMinerals 

Late Post: Christian Siriano Nails by Kiss

For the debut of Christian Siriano's Spring/Summer 2019 Collection at NYFW, Lead Manicurist of KISS Products Inc. Gina Edwards created the "Twisted Zebra" nail look. The look was created by using the KISS imPRESS Press-On Manicure Medium Length Nails in Black. 

The Secret's in the Sleeve

Okay so here is the deal: I went to homecoming and saw that a lot of my friends had lost weight, and they looked FABULOUS! Then I came home and was informed that the word from the curb was that these chics had lost all this weight because they'd gotten the gastric sleeve. This was super shocking, seeing that the person who told me this had also gotten it done! For those of you who don't know, it's some procedure where they reduce the size of your stomach somehow. I have read up on it and I will be honest, I don't really understand the science of it all. But still, I was amazed by this news!
Then I went to IG and really began to investigate all of the weight loss bloggers that I really like and I now suspect that they are all sleeved as well. They are NEVER sweaty in those super cute gym pics. I felt duped!
So, confused and not sure how to feel about all of this, I referred to my moral compass: Haynes. I asked her if I should get the sleeve and she was all like I should do what will make me happy. Typical Haynes, encouraging me to think about my actions and how they affect me, as if that has ever worked! So I then went to Bells, who was all like do it!
Just thinking about it makes me feel like I'm cheating, even though technically, if I went through with it, the only thing I would actually be cheating is an early death. But it is cheating, right? I don't like girl cheating, which is why I don't wear foundation when I need it or fake eyelashes even though my real lashes are embarrassingly short. I know, I know, I have a lot of nerve talking about cheating. I was the first one to take biotin tablets to make my hair grow. Then, when people asked me what I'd done it, I credited prayer and my Shea Butter regimen. But you have to understand, I was tired of being bald and wanted my hair to grow already, and I felt super pretty with longer hair. Maybe that is what it is about; not whether or not you are cheating but how the said cheating makes you feel. I mean, isn't it about your health and how you feel about yourself?
I wish I was friends with Donnalyn Perriwinkle. She girl cheated big time and got some very, VERY, VERY, very obvious breast implants. And anyone who would say that she doesn't look Tony the Tiger grrreeaattt is lying! She looks gorg, and I would like to ask her what made her decide to go through with it. Did it bother her that people would know that they weren't hers? How did she feel afterward?
Sadly, a matter such as whether or not to get a sleeve isn't a purely cosmetic one like whether or not to get implants. One could consider it a matter of life or death. And I really need to consider it, even thinking about it is putting my nerves to the test, a test that, if you weren't reading my every move, I would totally cheat on.

Homecoming Post 3: Meeting in the Ladies Room

Upon arriving in the fall of 2003 to college, I thought I was all that for about ten minutes. I was wearing gold hoops, a tall tee that made me look shapeless and wide-legged jeans. Then I saw the upperclassman girls and wanted to run back to my dorm room and crawl under the bed! They were all GORGEOUS! And they just seemed to have it all together. They were walking in heels and it didn't even look like their feet hurt. Their clothes fit properly. And they had on real makeup, not the lip liner and Carmax I was rockin'. I remember wanting to just walk among these glamazons, which would have been hard to do when they were wearing those super cute Timberland heels and I was wearing scuffed Reeboks. I just wanted to be grown like them.
Fast forward to last week. I was at a club in New Orleans feeling cute in a pink peplum top and animal print jacket. Then I walked into the bathroom and saw three women, each of them in red bottoms that didn't seem to be making their feet hurt. Their dresses were sparkly, their hair was flat ironed to perfection, and they smelled of Dove soap and Chanel Mademoiselle. Yes, they smelled like upperclassman girls. And, as if it was 13 years ago, I faded into the background, making myself invisible, just to hear the cool girls talk.
"I told my husband that I will support him getting his MBA, but I don't understand why he would get it now. He is making so much money already," Pink Sparkle Dress said.
"I know. My husband also wants to continue his education, but our son is about to start private school. I just don't think getting his Ph.D. right now would work," said Gold Sparkle Dress. "He's trying to squeeze pieces of our ten-year plan into our five-year plan and that gives me anxiety."
"I know!" said Blue Sparkle Dress. "It has to be about what is right for our family and what makes sense."
They all nodded in agreement. Man, even in the ladies room, they were adulting like crazy. And, just as I had years before, I just wanted to be apart of the conversation. I thought of something cool to say, which was going to be, "What does it matter? Aren't you all doctors?", but before I could say it, in Holly fashion, I did something else to get their attention. I sneezed.
They stopped talking and turned and looked at me blankly as they had in the past in the lunch line.
"Bless you," one of them said.
"Thank you," I replied.
They all threw their napkins in the trash simultaneously, then walked past me out of the bathroom.
I have to say, I am way more confident in myself than when I was at 18. But I wonder: even when you are as awesome as I am, do you ever stop wanting to be one of the cool girls? The together girls? Now I understand that I don't want to be them as much as I would like to take on some of their qualities. I'd definitely like to be more polished and seen as more serious. But unlike when I was 18, I am no longer willing to lose myself. So I smell like Caress and Bath and Body Works Body Spray I was given for my birthday? I don't have a husband in business school but I do have my own business. Maybe there is more than one way to be a cool girl. I'm banking on it, because I definitely don't ever plan to learn to walk in heels.

Fall Faves!

My favorite thing about a season change is switching out my warm weather products for my cold weather products. I admittedly don't know if this is a real thing that women everywhere do, but I do it. And being the weirdo that I am, I REALLY look forward to it, lol. These are my favorite winter products.

The Zoya Party Girls colors are fabulous for fall and winter. The collection has it all: darks, warm colors, a cool blue, and metalics. The shades are ideal for any look you are looking to create for the holidays. Just so you know, that gold color on the end, Nadia, is me all day long come Christmas.

Zoya Party Girl Colors, $10 each

I have essentially been using the same soap since I was in high school. Many soaps dry out my skin are cause me to itch. But this Treets Traditions Revitalizing Ceremonies Foaming Shower Gel is light and nourishing and smells like magic! It's my new favorite shower treat.

Treets Traditions Revitalizing Ceremonies Foaming Shower Gel, $15

I know that there are many of you out there that say that using a hand sanitizer doesn't keep you from getting sick, but believe me when I say that I keep this Everyone Hand Sanitizer Gel with me at all times. People get sick and yucky in the winter and me and hand sanitizer are fighting the good fight against getting ill this season.

Everyone Hand Sanitizer, $5.82

Dark Spots

I tell myself that I am not vain, but I am. Oh, am I! I may not be one of those women who do those IG videos where they are making kissie faces into their phone cameras, but I am close, particularly when it comes to my skin.
My whole life, I have enjoyed a beautiful, creamy complexion. Even as a teen, when I had friends that had such bad acne that they were on prescribed meds for it, I coasted through my days zit-free. My twenties were also wonderful years for my skin. Now I'm in my 30s. Let's just say that things are a little different.
I AM GETTING DARK SPOTS!
Dark spots are a very common skin issue, but they are enough to drive a self-obsessed person insane!
I am so jealous of those girls that made the right decisions in life to get a job that gives them the insurance go to a top-notch dermatologist. Since I am not one of these girls, I have been Googling ways to get RID of these spots. For the next month or so, I will be washing my face with apple cider vinegar and lemon juice. All the articles I have read have said that this is a sure thing. And yes, lemons break me out. I know. But I will have to just drink tons of water to get rid of the zits. Getting rid of the spots are my top priority.
My grandma once told me that your skin is a gift. She died this year at 91, practically wrinkle and blemish free. So I guess I am at an age where I have to take my gift seriously. I will keep you posted on the results.