Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Glamour

 A friend of mine has just popped round to discuss my volunteering. It's taken a really long time but I'm almost to the point of being matched with a 'friend'. I'm looking forward to it. It'll be a challenge, but a good one.
As a showed my friend out, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had panda eyes from mascara and the sort of hair that can only be achieved in under ten seconds after recent shower.

I have aspirations to be one of those eternally groomed women who look effortlessly glamorous. It is doubtful I shall ever be such a woman. A year or so ago, I bumped into a girl I went to school with. She is always pristine. Hair and make up perfect. She was shopping for her son's birthday cake. I had just been swimming. I was wearing track suit bottoms with chlorine infused wet hair and I am quite sure the panda eyes.
When I lived in Bath I made a trip across town to the doctors surgery, catching two buses and walking through the University and through town. Only in the doctors waiting room did I realise my coat was inside out. It was also at university that I decided I could pull off blond hair. I was mistaken. My hair is naturally dark. I used a pre-lightener and my then boyfriend and I carefully followed the instructions on the pre-lightener and then the dye. The outcome was quite frankly terrifying. My hair was white blond for the first two inches, changing to a quite vivid yellow throughout the next 4 or 5 inches, finally blending into carrot orange. In my infinite wisdom, I had spent all my money on these dyes and would now be stuck with my comedic hair for some time. During the weeks I sported this look, I was followed by a man in a BMW and propositioned. Nuff said.

I have been painting my bathroom this week. There is no call for glamour here. But I would prefer that my mother give me some warning she is coming over if I am dressed for painting. I was wearing a pair of very old paint splattered jeans, a green t-shirt with bright yellow lettering, pink fluffy socks and some ballet pumps as I'd just put the bin out. My mother is not good at the art of subtlety when she sees such a look on her daughter.

I am not religious. However, I religiously buy a high street fashion magazine in order that I do not become a shin length floral skirt wearing teacher with whiskers growing from her chin and with a smell of cat pee about her. Or like the teacher at my old school who was near skeletal and owned one pair of stained beige slacks which she teamed with many a grotesque jumper and the overwhelming stench of fags. Last week I tried out a pair of tweed city shorts with floaty fabrics and some ankle boots. At my sign language class, I tried a more Peter Pan look with green tights under my green dress. I will not become a stereotypical teacher. However, the glamour still evades me and on a daily basis I come home smothered in paint, glue, plasticine or the like. It is not unknown for me to have a googly eye or sequin attached to me- usually my backside.

This Summer, I went to a friends wedding. I wrote about my preparations for the wedding. I had a spray tan. I liked it a lot. Made me look healthy. So the following week I went back for another. This time I looked as though I had been creosoted. I have added the creosote pictures to my FB page but under restricted access. I was asked to put them up for my family's general amusement.
I have now remedied the panda eyes.