Oh joy, another invitation to a “Girls Night Out!” Come explore our latest offerings: hair treatments, nail wraps, body wraps, foot wraps, candles, oils, and eco-friendly cleaners! Not to mention the shabby chic, Bohemian-styled home decor that’s supposed to look vintage but isn’t. AAAAAAH! Moments like these make me want to retreat under a blanket with a good book because, honestly, all this feminine fuss is just too much for me.
At 37, I find myself walking into these gatherings and introducing myself with, “Hi, I’m Emily. I don’t wear makeup, I’ve never set foot in Sephora, I don’t dye my hair, and I’m not a fan of shoe shopping.” Just the other day, I had to Google “Chip and Joanna Gaines” so I could keep up with the conversations during school drop-off. Want to be friends? Yeah, it’s awkward.
How did I end up here? I consider myself somewhat girly; I appreciate pink and glitter, but my purchases usually come from clearance racks at budget-friendly stores. Perhaps I’m just annoyingly practical and a bit lazy. Every item I consider buying needs multiple justifications. Will I actually wear this shirt with at least three pairs of pants? When I hear I need to give a “product” 30 days to see results, I think, are you kidding? That’s like an eternity! I’ll stick with my generic brand lotion from the supermarket, thank you very much.
As the years slip by, those crow’s feet around my eyes seem to multiply, and gray hairs sporadically invade my life, which I pretend is just poor lighting. Other moms chat about Botox while I’m over here thinking, uhh, I think I put mascara on last week.
Soon it will be May, and we’ll finally stash the boots away to welcome flip-flops back into our lives. Other moms will lament about needing pedicures. Sure, I get pedicures too, but mine consist of painting my toenails while perched on my bathroom floor. There’s no sweet lady massaging my feet; it’s just me and some stolen hot pink nail polish from my daughter’s collection. Have I had a pedicure? Sure, but only during those “bring-your-own-wine” events, which I’m totally on board with.
When I receive these invitations, I picture someone trying to sell me an $85 foot cream. Hmmm… Sorry, but these calloused heels will have to pass. That coconut butter foot rub is far down my list of priorities.
Then there are body wraps—the kind that involve wrapping yourself in plastic. A friend of mine sells these and, because I adore her, I thought, why not give it a try? She claimed that after 45 minutes, my tummy would feel tight enough to disguise the fact that I’ve carried three 9-pound babies. What a miraculous promise! I decided to give it a go, thinking, what’s 45 minutes?
I made it 42 minutes before ripping that thing off and tossing it in the trash. It was the longest, most irritating 42 minutes I’ve ever experienced, and no, my love for Doritos during that time wasn’t the reason for my post-baby body.
In terms of accessories, I’m utterly baffled. Every few years, my mother-in-law gifts me a fancy purse from an outlet store that I use until it falls apart—often after resting on too many public bathroom floors. A friend once showed me her new handbag, and when she revealed the price, I nearly had a heart attack. I was genuinely anxious about being in the same room with it, worried I’d accidentally spill wine on it from across the room.
I. Just. Don’t. Get. It.
And as I struggle through my late 30s, my beauty routine is no more sophisticated than my home decor. We’ve moved recently, and I thought this was the perfect time to elevate my aesthetic. After years of visiting friends’ homes adorned with trendy decor, I decided to update my own style.
However, as I wandered aimlessly through HomeGoods mumbling to myself like a lost cat lady, I realized I needed assistance. I learned new jargon like “texture,” “pattern,” and “pop of color.” After spending a small fortune on decor designed to look “aged,” only one room in my house truly reflects that a grown-up resides here. Yay, I think?
This could be a step toward adulthood. For years, I’ve prioritized practicality. With three kids in five years, cute sandals felt impractical—flip-flops were my go-to. And the evolution of my body through pregnancy and nursing led to sensible clothing choices that concealed my sensible bras. Life as a stay-at-home mom meant sweatpants and messy buns—not because they were trendy, but because I had a lot of unwashed hair.
But now, as I approach 38, with no babies or toddlers demanding my attention, I have uninterrupted hours ahead of me. So perhaps it’s time to grow up? Should I finally learn about shiplap and if it belongs in my home? Or maybe I’ll expand my makeup collection beyond Revlon eyeliner and mascara purchased with a coupon?
Time will tell. For now, I’m savoring a hot cup of coffee, putting my feet up on my ottoman (yes, I have an ottoman!), and feeling like a grown-up—while wearing the slippers my kids gifted me for Mother’s Day in 2011. One step at a time, folks.
This article was originally published on Feb. 20, 2018. For further reading on fertility and home insemination, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
This reflective piece discusses the overwhelming world of fashion and beauty products from the perspective of a woman who feels out of touch with trends. Despite her inherent girly nature, she struggles with practicality and laziness, often avoiding beauty routines and fashion updates. As she approaches 38 and her children grow more independent, she contemplates stepping into adulthood, embracing new styles, and possibly even updating her beauty regimen.