Pretty pink ribbon

Never in my wildest dreams would I call myself a girly girl. I wouldn't even really say that I'm all that feminine. Here's why: for the most part, it seems to be more trouble than it's worth.

Prime example: makeup. I don't wear it because I don't really fully grasp how to put it on. Additionally, my first two makeup experiences were forced. Both in middle school. Once was in the back of a moving car when me and an eyeliner pencil got way too close. Second was before my eighth grade graduation. I was cornered between a wall and the toilet as the stuff was rubbed on my eyes, cheeks, and lips. Not only am I scarred for life by these horrifying experiences, but I really fail to see the point of it. Stage makeup I understand, and I understand the idea behind makeup, but the execution of the product rarely makes me go, "wow, I guess that's why people wear makeup." I think firstly that people are beautiful without makeup. Then there's the whole double standard thing that bugs me, not enough and you're ugly, too much and you're a whore. I feel like makeup gives other people the idea that because you made an effort to improve your appearance, they can judge your looks much more harshly. I would go on, but I feel as though many of my sentiments are much better expressed in the blog Methyl Ethyl Aldehyde. I suggest going there and reading Trope Girl's post about makeup. If you do read it, you know pretty much exactly how I feel about the application of makeup.

The constant wardrobe and handbag changes required to maintain standings as a "fashionable woman" are also quite peeving. I personally know that I simply do not have the budget to keep up on the latest trends. Plus, most of the latest trends are things that might look good or even great on stick figure models, but let's face it, almost everything looks good on them. They are size -2s and shrinking. AVERAGE people are forced to feel obscenely overweight when we try these outfits on. I feel more comfortable and more attractive in a nicely fitting pair of jeans and a t-shirt than in some odd contraption with multiple straps. In general, my rule is, if I can't immediately figure out how to wear it, or even what part of my body it's supposed to be covering, I don't even try it on. I can just imagine myself two months later picking it up wondering if it's a skirt with straps or just an oddly shaped tunic top thing.

Dresses and skirts, eh. I wear them when I want to look really nice, or when I HAVE to look really nice. But I like wearing things that I can do everything I do on a daily basis in. Walk my dog, roll on the floor playing tug-of-war, work, cook, wash dishes, relax on the couch, etc. That's why when I do end up wearing a dress or skirt, it usually ends up back in my closet approximately five minutes after my return home. I like wearing a nice pair of shoes every now and again, especially if they match one of my dresses or skirts, but I always end up cursing them and remembering why I don't wear them several hours and five blisters later. I don't even try with high heels unless I have to. They seem to increase the gravitational pull the earth has on me. I don't understand the science behind it, but I have learned to stay away. I was asked not to wear heels at my high school graduation because all of my friends voted me "Most Likely To Fall, Bringing The Whole Class Down With Me." That damn gravitational pull!!!

Hair is another issue. Mine is nice and I like it. As a rule I actually like hair. I think it's attractive and soft and fun to play with. However, the fun to play with thing never seems to apply to my own hair, and so I normally let it grow, hang there lifeless, and chop it back another few inches. The tricky thing about my hair is that it grows fast and it's thick. Hair disgusts me the moment it leaves one's head, so the shedding problem is one that I approach with fear and horror. I have also found that my hair actually looks better once I've showered, slept on it, and woken up, combing it just enough to get the tangles out, than it does straightened or curled and sprayed.

I was recently told that I have a natural look about me, and that it was fairly pleasing. I was pleasantly surprised by this compliment, since I've never really been complimented for my failure to put on makeup or fix my hair or pick out the best clothes before.

I suppose you could say that I'm merely in the tomboy phase I never grew out of, but my "ungirly"ness goes past the surface straight to the core. I don't really follow any of the basic girl rules. I heard there was a handbook passed out in preschool, and apparently while everyone was getting theirs, I was off playing pretend flying tigers with the boys.

This topic has proven (at least to me) much more interesting than I anticipated, but to spare you from continuing tonight, I will write another post about the deeper girly things that I avoid.

The note upon which I will conclude is this: Pretty Pink Ribbon: an amazing song, but nothing more.

-T.A.D.