Beauty

I was walking out of the campus Starbucks this morning and I saw an amazingly beautiful woman.  I should note that I only saw her from the back and it was a combination of factors that lead me to make this comment.  She had a scarf tied about her head, a brown shirt and brown cords… nothing very special right?  It was the way she carried herself that caught my attention: straight posture, curves that weren’t tightly bound…  I suppose it’s a difficult thing to express.

Then I saw a man with a shaved head and I couldn’t help but admire the architecture of his skull.

Beauty is a strange, subjective topic.  Something that appeals to me might have no impact on another viewer.

It’s funny to be writing about this subject on the heels of my morning.  I succumbed to vanity this morning and put in my new (extremely uncomfortable) contacts.  I did the normal, at least by other women’s standards – but not my own, routine of cleanse, moisturize and powder.  I’m wearing a bit of make-up today and I actually took the time to do my hair. 

Why?

I’ve lately come to the conclusion that I need to “take care of myself” more.   I hate fussing over hair and face.  I can’t even write that without cringing over the thought of how much I’d rather not mess with all the steps most women do.

I once read a commentary from a woman in a magazine about how women who say they don’t wear makeup are really lying.  HA!  Stupid, stupid woman…. what do you know? 

A person (and I won’t say more about her than that) actually argued with me about it and started grilling me about my habits – all of which were easily countered with “I don’t do that.”  And that’s the issue.  No woman (or, I suppose, man) should assume that others believe or do the same as them.

No, up until now, I did not use facial wash.  I used soap.  In the shower, when I was washing the rest of my person.  No, I did not, up until now, use moisturizer and yes!  wow, my skin didn’t fall off.

I have rosy cheeks and rosy lips.  I have black, relatively thick, eyelashes.  I have mostly unblemished skin – although I’ll admit my nose gets red easily.

I got lucky.

My mother has sandy eyelashes, but otherwise she got lucky too.

My oldest son would make a gorgeous girl with his coloring and those long, thick dark eyelashes that any woman would kill for.

The fact is that I didn’t do all those things that we are “supposedly” supposed to do in order to ensure beauty.  I finally gave in, not because I felt that I was somehow lacking, but because I wanted to see what would happen. 

So here I am, today… with my pretty skin powdered and my hair neatly combed.  I am no different than I was before, except for a little bit more conscious about the effort I took.  I asked my husband this morning if I looked pretty and without looking up he said yes.  It makes me smile to think about it because I called him on the fact that he answered before looking up and he said, “Well, my answer is still the same.”

This brings me back to my surreptitious people-watching of this morning.  What made these people rate as beautiful to me was often something intriguing and unique.  It was more about a line, a curve, or an individual characteristic than some socially-accepted norm achieved through use of products or regimen.  I don’t belittle those who feel the need to, but I don’t believe we all have to do these things to find our own form of beauty.

Other than my complete and utter disatisfaction with my saggy, out-of-shape body, I like myself and my unique conglomeration of parts.  I like the crooked nostril and the silver hairs.  I like the smile lines at the corners of my eyes and I like the fact that I got lucky with my coloring.  I can do something about my fitness….  I can get up and walk more.  I can eat nutritious foods, which will feed my body and my mental health.  I can laugh a bit more and not worry so much over stupid things.

Perhaps I’ll keep up with the cleanse, moisturize, powder regimen…

No matter what though, I will continue to enjoy my own brand of beauty.

Cheers on a Tuesday morning!
moonfire.

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