I’m aware this is an exercise in vanity, but it’s fun to imagine a little. I’ve never been one who is into fashion. It never made much sense to me. I prefer wearing clothes that are practical and comfortable, clothes I can do stuff in. Make-up was never my forte. Nor was hair styling, hence the messy bun most days of the week. But hey, I’m almost always prepared to climb a ladder, run a mile, mow the lawn, or do whatever physical or mental task lies ahead. I won’t be hindered by hair in my face or flip flops or bra straps.

Despite all of the above, I have to admit that there is a part of me that thinks it would be cool to be into fashion and hair and make-up. When I see women in movies or photos of celebrities online, I often wonder what it would be like to be them. What if I actually had my own stylist? What if I had a professional to help me? I wonder what I’d look like.

I’d be tan. My eyebrows would be plucked to perfect symmetry. I’m sure I’d have killer eyes – underlined or outlined by black pencil and accentuated by cool shadows up top. I’d put the raccoon to shame. My eyelashes would be plump and yet natural-looking. My cheeks would glisten. My lips would be perfectly colored to match my complexion and complement my outfit. They’d be glossy.  And my teeth would jut out just right – veneers, I think they call that.

My hair would either be perfectly straight or more natural-looking, wavy and somehow not frizzy. The hairspray would do just right. If this look were for a movie, my hair would be styled so that it somehow wouldn’t fall into my face when I move – you know, while riding a horse or a bike or whatever. But even if it did, that’d be okay because it’s a movie and it looks cool.

My nails would be flawlessly manicured. Ragged cuticles would be no more and dead skin edges would be long gone. I’d probably have the finest jewelry on my fingers and a nice little watch on my wrist. I’d sparkle through and through.

The stylist would deck me out in fashionable clothes. It’s hard for me to even picture this. I see a pretty silk blouse with a sharp colored blazer over top, unbuttoned. Perfectly fitting black pants, straight-legged and that don’t fall down. I’d have well-fitting undergarments. Of course I’d wear heels. I’d also wear a nice necklace, short-chained, circular. I don’t have piercings for earrings, so they’re out of the question. Piercings at my age are not part of the gig.

I’d look like a real celebrity. Or just a woman who takes the time to really care about her appearance. I’d be ready for work – whether it’s a movie set or as a weather lady or speaker or business person. Or I’d be a mom or teacher or barista. Heck, I could be all of the above. This is all dream/fantasy-land for me.

But, I come back to reality. Because I’d get puppy fur on my black pants and blazer within a minute. The rings would have to come off because I’d need to lift weights or scoop some dog poop. The shoes would have to go, or else I’d be in agony from trying to walk around. My manicure would be tested by the weights and house cleaning. The hair would need to go up quickly – for my run. Oh, and the make-up too. Otherwise, I’d sweat it off.

So yeah, I see why I don’t have a stylist. Trying to look like a celebrity is too much work. And it’s not me. It’s also not as much fun. I’m not a weather lady or business woman in that sense. I’m me. And that’s a lot more comfortable and functional. Carry on, self. ~