Vanity Whore

I'm 40.

And I confess it.  I'm still a vanity whore.  A girly girl.  A whatever you want to call it.

Yup.  I know I'm not some hott 20 something model.  I know I'm rockin' a middle age-ish used mom body and all that.  I know I'm more likely to have someone looking at my butt because there is a sticker stuck to it or something than because it's something to look at.  I know I'm not in high school any more.

It's OK.  I don't mind.

I still like to put on my make up and do my nails.  I "dress" each day, meaning I pick out an outfit on purpose, I don't just throw something on.  If you see me in junk clothes or sweats, you can bet I'm either in the middle of some big project or sicker than a dog.  I love, love, love me some accessories.  I am never without jewelry.  I haul myself off to the salon and beg them to work their magic.

And in a way, it is a little magic.

Yes, I'll have coffee.
Yes, I'd love a neck wrap.
Of course you can give me a hand massage.

I like to see what's trendy and pick what parts I can use.  I admit fully to having my own very quirky lack of style.  Yeah, I'll wear heels on a Thursday when I'm staying home doing nothing, just because I can and they're cute.

Why shouldn't I?

This pile of "little" things I do for me, keep my attitude in a better place.  If i make a point of caring about how I look, even when I'm the only one seeing myself, then I am more capable of caring about the things and people around me.  When I feel like I look good and well taken care of, my attitude is positive and can do.  I am more motivated to be the mom that goes the extra step.  I'm more ready to bring my home up a notch or two on the clean it up scale.  I'm a nicer wife and friend when I care about me.

When I like what I see in the mirror, I take better care of my body.  I eat better and move more.

Was it always like this?

Nope.  Not at all.

Back in the day, I was a vanity whore in an ever failing attempt to fit in.  Those teens and 20's are rough business.  I never did really figure out the secrets then, but I think I just might have it now.

For a long time, I forced myself into this place.  I wanted to live in sweats and no make up.  I didn't want to ever look in a mirror.  I didn't care one bit what went into my mouth as long as it tasted good and dulled something.

But who can live that way for long?

I forced myself to dress nicer.  I forced myself to put on some make up. I made myself put on some jewelry every day.

Little by little it became routine and little by little I started to feel better about myself and like myself in the mirror.

At first I thought it was about weight and size and money.  About having just the right thing or look.  Then I noticed something.  Some of the hottest people I knew were none of those things.  I knew some heavy curvy girls that rocked it like nobody's business.  I knew some barely had a dollar to spare friends that had style pouring out of their pores.

How did that work?

They knew who they were and embraced it.  That's the key, the secret.  It's all in the knowing.  You have to know yourself and like that person, then you can live in style however that might look, stick skinny or round S curves, designer label or thrift store, the look, the style comes from within.

Now?  A lot of it, is a lot more fun for me.  I call myself a vanity whore in the most positive laughing way possible.  I have no delusions about the things I can't or shouldn't wear, but I know I have a strange style that I'm going to embrace anyway.  It adds a little fun and life to the living when your bracelets jangle on your wrist or you find just the right shade of eye shadow.  It's a little sweet spot in life to have that one pair of shoes you think is so crazy fab fun you smile in spite of the world every time you wear them.  It's a moment in the sun to have that one outfit or pair of jeans or whatever it is to wear that you just know looks great on you and makes you stand a little taller, rock your walk a little more.

Life is a thing to grab a hold of and take a great big juicy bite out of.

Go find your inner vanity whore and rock your bad self one of these days.  I guarantee it's worth it.