Maybe it’s a midlife crisis thing. Maybe it’s vanity. Maybe it’s both. No matter how I look at it, the truth is I need de-frumping.
The other day I looked in the mirror and saw one word emblazoned across my forehead: b-o-r-i-n-g. Dull, hum drum, and stale came to mind as well but why beat a dead horse, you know?
In the past I’ve done different things to change my look. I’ve done any number of things to my hair utilizing dyes and perms (some results good, others caused much screaming and gnashing of teeth.) Out in the work force I wore dressy clothes, jewelry and high heels (for which my feet have never forgiven me.) When I took on a second job managing a posh spa/salon I dressed to the nines. Well, maybe to the eights but you get my drift. I was on a budget after all. Bottom line…I wasn’t b-o-r-i-n-g.
Fast forward many moons and my oh my how things have changed. I haven’t done much of anything different with my hair since the Volkswagen Hugo came on the market. I wear the minimum in jewelry and my wardrobe consists of sweat shirts, jeans, t-shirts and the occasional skirt that doesn’t fit anymore. We’re talking b-o-r-i-n-g with a capital B-O-R-I-N-G.
I’m not looking to reinvent myself so much as to spice things up a little. Last summer I got two tattoos on my leg. I like them and they make me feel like a bit of a rebel which in the scheme of things is a little pathetic. But it was still a bold move on my part and if this is as close as I become to a rebel then all I can say is, “Go me!”
About 8 years ago I got my nose pierced but the ring bothered me so much that after about a year I took it out. I pretty much decided I didn’t want to go that route again but still wanted a new piercing.
Yesterday Fred and I visited our local tattoo/piercing establishment and I got a second ear piercing above the holes I already have. It’s a tiny step but hey, at least I’m not doing a Heidi Montag who had 10 surgeries in one day to “upgrade” herself. I don’t need an upgrade; just a bit of tweaking thank you very much. Never will I allow anyone to take fat out of my ass and inject it in my lips. I’d rather have an ample booty than ample lips that look like they’re full of butt fat.
Next on my list is my b-o-r-i-n-g brown hair. It needs some pizzazz. Fred says I should add some blonde highlights but I don’t want to have to deal with dark roots. I’m thinking red highlights. What is it with men and blonde hair anyway? They say blondes have more fun but red heads definitely have more sass. I’m just enough of a smart ass for that to work.
I also need to do something about my wardrobe. Actually “wardrobe” is slightly misleading since what I really have is just a mish mash of tees and sweats with a little bit of denim thrown in for good measure. I think I may have to employ my niece and sister-in-law to help me get current since I fall into the category of fashionably challenged. When I say employ I mean employ because anyone who takes me on as their project should surely get paid.
I guess I’ll continue to take baby steps. At this rate I’ll be complete when I’m around 87. (I try not to think about what my tattoos will look like if I get to be that old.) One thing I realize is that underneath the surface of my desire to make some changes, I’m still me. I will always be me (barring any blunt force trauma to my brain which could alter my reality and cause me to actually be less bitchy) and that’s okay. It’s how God made me but he didn’t make me to be stagnant.
Call it a crisis, call it vanity, call it what you may but I will shed this frock of frumpiness and be stagnant no more!