Springtime = Sephora

My mother calls me a bear in the morning (or words to that effect) but really I'm just a bear in the winter. I hibernate. I wear sweaters and sneakers to work, and even on the weekends I don't really break out much into fun clothes because I know I'll just be cold so I wear baggy pants and t-shirts and sweatshirts.

With yesterday's jump in temperature, I felt like someone had given me my personality back. I wore a beautiful dress, and heels and it's getting humid again so I wore my hair wavy and bouncy instead of flat. And everybody stared. Which was somewhat disconcerting.

Guy: "You should go look at yourself in the mirror." (Translation: "You'll be happy to see yourself again.")

My boss: "That dress is really flattering on you." (Translation: "You have breasts! And a waist! Who knew!")

Construction Worker Guys: "Hey baby!" "Hooooot!" (Translation: "I'm bored and construction work is hard.")

Suffice it to say, I felt so good about myself--and it's been quite a long time--that I resolved to spend more time caring for my appearance. I will wash my face at night. I will shave my legs. I will wear the face mask I bought from Lush. I will wear all the cute shoes I own but never wear because sneakers are so much more comfortable (I may resort to the time-honored practice of carrying the cute shoes in a bag).

Walking home, I passed a woman who'd had a similar epiphany that morning--cute dress, great shoes. I was admiring her shoes quite intently, and then got embarrassed about staring, and so looked up at her face to give an apologetic look. She was staring at my shoes. Hooray!

Hey, happiness is happiness, and if it comes in the form of looking good, then that just makes it all the more attainable. I went home and put on a foot mask and painted my nails.