I love being girly

I was so antigirly, when I was a teenager. I abhorred any sign of femininity, anything with pink, or a frill, or...well, anything. I did my makeup, when I was younger, with an eye for shock-rock. Not to enhance my features, but to scare people off, and look as shocking and evil as possible. I wore dresses. but of the black and tattered kind, with holey fishnets, and combat boots. My clothes were my armor. They were my shell, almost. I felt safe, behind band logos and black, spikes and leather, and rips and chains. I still do.

I feel good, still, when I go full-bore metal. I do it now, though, when I need some strength. Not every day. I don't have the energy to go the full measure, these days. When I'm feeling particularly vulnerable, these days, I'll don a Gwar tee, and some spiky jewelry. I'll smear the eyeliner across my eyes, black, smoky and sneering. Just like when I was a kid.

Mostly, these days, though, I'm embracing my girlyness. Chimele and I went, today, to get our nails done. We went to a trendy luncheonette, and then, to get our nails done. Had you predicted this for us 8 years ago, we would have laughed at you, barked at you, made threat poses, and tried to run you off.

But it's all about feeling good, and pampering myself, these days. The yoga is paying off in strength, and flexibility (Lisa at 17: "Yoga?! Yoga is for pansies!") The nail salon visits, and pedicures not only make me look good (I'm such a stickler for detail, even my pinkie toenail must look good) but they're directly related to how I feel about myself. If my nails look raggedy and chipped, I feel raggedy and chipped. These days we exfoliate, (we even got the Vikings to exfoliate :O ) shave, trim, wax, preen, and trade tips on doing the same. We spend hours browsing upscale cosmetic stores, looking for the perfect lipstick, for the best smelling stuff, or the lushest soap. (Lisa at 17: "Shampoo...soap, *sniff* I smell good. Lipstick, black. Eyeliner, black. What, this shirt doesn't have holes, I look ok.") I still won't let anyone lay a finger on my hair. A girl's gotta have some sacred cows.

I wonder what this says for my evolving character. I was more confident when I was younger, but only because I knew I scared people. I got off on having them cross the street to get away from me. Now, I'm regaining confidence, but it's because of my person, not my shell.