Vanity

I am a vain person.

This blog serves as Evidence File #1. I sit at a computer and write about myself and feel a sense of accomplishment when other people read it. I think I'm pretty, smart, funny, polite, generous, and kind. It's fairly obvious I'm quite narcissistic.

Despite this, I don't dress up very often. I didn't come from money and I don't have much now. I'm not impoverished, but I don't buy things I don't need and I am a firm believer that with tweaking, Ikea furniture can last a long time. I don't buy clothes every year and none of my shoes cost over thirty dollars. That's just how I was raised, and I'm used to it. Plus, cheap clothes and shoes are so cute nowadays (hello, Target!)

(Side story: My sister went bankrupt after high school when she worked as a waitress in a suburb of Los Angeles. She bought thousands of dollars of clothes and shoes on a credit card, in order to catch the eye of some rich guy. After maxing out and calling it a day, she moved back home and fell head over heels for a sweet surfer guy with zero cash. They've been married for 16 years. Everybody say it with me. Awwwww.) 

Anyway, I'm pretty much a t-shirt and jeans kind of gal, and people don't usually pass out compliments when you wear the same four pairs of jeans and converse for two years running. So, when I stepped out for work into the chilly, drizzling weather today I hadn't expected anything special. I was dressed differently- it was cold so I switched out my jeans for leggings and boots, my t-shirt for something more stylish.

I didn't expect to be complimented. I didn't expect people to tell me I looked beautiful, or to ask where I'd gotten my clothes or my shoes. I smiled, and someone asked what eyeshadow I was wearing (was she crazy? Who wears eyeshadow in the rain?) Someone else asked me what shampoo and conditioner I use. People complimented my hair, my smile, my laugh, my eyes. I think I may have started glowing.

I felt beautiful. Not just pretty, not just sweet and smiling in front of a mirror in the morning, but noticed. I felt as if I had suddenly come into focus, rather than just a blur in the background. It wore off as I came home from work, took out my contacts, put on warm socks.

Tomorrow I'll just be the blur - the girl in jeans and a t-shirt, and I'm okay with that. But just for today, it felt so wonderful to be beautiful.