06 July 2006

requisite post on grooming

OR: am I becoming a girl?
OR: once a year whether you need it or not

this week I bought a bra for the first time in years. taking the opportunity of my sister's wedding and the lovely dress she has chosen for us to wear (seriously--I was thinking poofy sleeves and then she went all 'classy' and 'timeless' on me. when else would I have been able to wear chiffon? well, aside from that one bridesmaid experience back in the 80s--that was teal, poofy sleeves and chiffon. the triple threat. so we're happy with the dress. anyhoo...) the strapless bra is required for this get-up and so I thought I'd get serious about this. do some research.

went to Bitch PhD's two bra posts--both great resources, fyi--did the measurements and discovered (like millions of women before me) that I've been buying the wrong size. huh. who would have thought that the size I was in high school has changed somewhat? interesting. and off to the fitting room I went, new size in hand. 15 bras later I emerged with one that (a) actually fits (b) will stay up what with the no strap thingy (this is, by the way, how all bras should fit, straps or no straps) and (c) wasn't on sale (horrors!) trusting Bitch PhD's advice, however, I decided I was worth it (*Loreal*) and bought the thing. very very exciting. so that's girl step no. 1.

no. 2: wax!

when I went to India for a month to take tourists around I didn't want to check my bag, which means no razor. so I waxed my legs. two things: it didn't hurt that badly and it lasted for about 3 weeks. having now done this several more times, I can say that the time between waxings is getting longer and longer, my skin feels better, and well, it's just more convenient. so: girly? or lazy? you be the judge. my product here

no. 3: I'm a 2.

when my friend Mona visited she had to pick something up at the Clinique counter. there was a free gift if you bought two things. she had one thing. I decided I should buy some soap (I'm simple that way). but which soap? to determine this, I had to go through a little mini questionnaire with the counter attendant person (cosmetoligist? cosmeticist?) that involved answering questions such as:
  • when you go out into the sun without sunscreen, what does your skin do?
    me: um. I never go out without sunscreen. are you insane?
    c: I mean do you freckle? do you get red? do you go brown?
    me: that one time I fried my skin so badly that I bled--does that count?

  • are you concerned about your pores?
    me: wha? should I be?
    c: I mean do you feel they're too big?
    me: what are you saying? are they? where's a mirror?
    c: let's call that a no.
it seems, after the sliders lined up, I'm a 2. and now I have a free gift of little bottles of #2 appropriate Clinique stuff. intriguing. little green boxes everywhere. it's almost like I'm a girl. hm.


Ruth said...

I used to do that Clinique thing in high school. Or was it college? It all seems so long ago. The problem was, I was evenly split between a type 1 and a type 4. What to do? 20 years later, and I still haven't stepped past the paralysis into girlhood.

Rebecca said...

yep it seemed like there was a period there where everyone I knew had one of those domed Clinique soap holders. I think it was high school. and the typology is silly. knowing I'm a 2 doesn't tell me anything except how I fit into their system of what I should care about and not. sigh.

we want structure in our lives, but frankly, no structure ever quite fits, right?

oh, and I think there are only three types now. you may have been collapsed into being a 1. who knows?

sageblue said...

Um, OK "Yurly"

So, every time I watch What Not to Wear, I have a twinge of glee whenever a woman realizes that she has been wearing the wrong bra size for, like, 25, 50 years. Part of it is that I'm so happy that they are now taking proper care of the girls; part of it is that I'm screaming, "how can you not know this?"

Also, I'm planning on getting a serious facial in Vegas in a month (seems logical to me) in part because I think each of my pores could hold a small raft.