After a brief two months, I was reminded by a friend, today, that the moustache was back. Probably if reminded about this a couple of years ago, I would have taken serious offense. But having been around more brutal verbal commentary over the past few years, I’ve learnt to take life a lot easier.
So easy, that now, the most subtle things people would hear me say is:
“Hey! I think I’m turning into a man”
And stuff like this, one is likely to be a witness to more often than ever. One may wonder that these remarks are being made OUT of context, but hey, I need to stop you right there.
OK, let me set you a scene, and give you a picture of what we are really dealing with here. Do you know why people often say – women are aesthetic and pleasing to watch? Why there are a billion songs about women flipping their luscious hair or having flawless skin, (skin as soft as rose petals)? Because it’s all obviously true! And how is it so true, someone who is probably living under a rock may ask… The answer is simple – “Regular visits to parlors and salons!” (For all the women who are rolling their eyes at what I just said, because they are gifted with bodies that have lesser hair growing or acne free faces, you may not be able to relate to this).
So, back to where I stopped. You know parlors are magical places! They could turn you from looking like a sea otter into a human being, and that my friend is a great thing, right?
Haha! Wrong. Not as great as one might like to believe. Delaying my parlor dates has become my most favourite hobby. And trust me, I pay the price for it every month.
- The scream in the head is louder as the strip of wax plucks out the additional grown out hair from parts of the body that were once considered fragile;
- When the lady threading your eyebrows is a bigger villain in your life than Joker ever was to Batman,
- And not to forget when your friends start asking you if it’s “No shave November”.
And this is just the tip of the ice berg.
I was struggling to let things go and learn that it’s not the end of the world to walk around with hairy arms, or forgo fashion opting to wear stretch pants and full sleeve t-shirts for weeks together, and sport unruly hair, for a while now. But after being reminded by my friend who is generally quiet about pointing out female “mustaches” and “beards”, I’ve started to maybe think that it’s time the deed is done. It’s time to wear my armour and walk into the field of battle. It’s time I scheduled my appointment with the parlor and ensured to make a visit.
So here goes, I vow to come out of my self-imposed reclusiveness, a much smarter woman (hard to believe, right?). Trusting, letting go, leaning in by visiting the salon and coming out of it, from looking like a sea otter to a GQ Model!