I'm Not Fancy

I'm not fancy.

The older I get, the more I realize this fact.  And also, the more I am comfortable with this information.

In high school, everyone got their hair done for prom.  I wouldn't have minded going to a salon for an updo, I'm sure, but it was expensive, money wasn't growing on trees, and it wasn't that big a thing to me.  I did my hair, in a slightly fancier way to my mind's eye, and that was that.

I bought my makeup in those days at Target.  Blue eye shadow from the Cover Girl section, and Maybelline mascara. I didn't buy Aveda hair products for my permed 80s hair, Suave worked just fine for my mop.

For my wedding, I had the bridesmaids purchase reasonably-priced dresses and shoes they could wear again, and they looked lovely (in burgundy - the color of choice in 1996!).  I did get my hair done for the wedding, a splurge I've only done once more in my entire life (and that was a birthday present!).

And all these years later, I'm no different.  Except that now I don't feel like I'm doing something wrong.  Now I don't mind that I still wear Cover Girl and Maybelline (and a scant amount of either, truly).  I don't shop at Ulta or Sephora, and I don't get manis or pedis.  I would rather wear a ponytail most of the time, and I wear heels when I need to, but prefer flats that are comfy.  I would choose a causal restaurant where I can wear jeans over a dressy affair 9 times out of ten.  And as I get older, when push comes to shove, I'll choose comfort over style if I can't seem to swing both at once.

So maybe what I'm saying is that at 42, I'm finally comfortable with who I am in this department.  If you shop at Ulta and get a mani/pedi every week?  More power to ya!  But I don't mind anymore that I am not of the heart and mind (and sometimes budget) to join you.

I'm happy being me:  ponytail-sporting, scant Cover Girl-wearing, comfy clothes-buying me.