Feeling lonely? Need to surround yourself with friends? Have you been hoping to run into someone you haven’t seen for 30 years? An old flame? The CEO of your company who lives in another state?
Then by all means be sure to leave your house in lounge clothes with messy hair and no makeup. You are sure to run into people you haven’t seen in decades.
This week I had some eye issues. Nothing serious. Just my new plan to be allergic to all the things coming to fruition nicely. As my eyes puffed and watered because I had kind of maybe thought about using a cheaper brand of mascara, I decided to swear off makeup for a few days. The natural look is all the rage, right?
It’s not like I’m a high maintenance person on my best day. I tend to like light makeup, a ponytail, and relatively non-toxic lip gloss (see also: allergic to all things). My super sensitive delicate flower skin means I can’t just dive willy-nilly into the world of heavy makeup. A Kardashian I am not. Still, I’m sure to a certain “finish” when I leave the house. I aim for not spooking children or horses. This week I had none of that.
On one hand, it was oddly freeing. It really only saves five minutes or less (I told you I really don’t wear much makeup). It was more the idea of it. Nothing to flake, smudge or smear. Just me and the skin God gave me. It was a look.
Then I got lazy and added a frumpy ponytail and what I have come to call my “winter wear.” (Lounge pants and warm boots with some sort of layering until I am almost as wide as I am tall, but warm, very warm.) Otherwise, I don’t feel the need to dress up much these days, but I also try not to look like I just fled a natural disaster either.
Normally I get up and I brush and blow dry my hair, I curl my lashes, I wear cute boots. I put on a little gloss. I try. For all this effort I run into… no one.
Let me roll out like a hobo on crack. Let me say “oh, what are the chances I’ll see anyone I know, I’m just running out real quick” and it’s a worldwide class reunion. “Kym! I haven’t seen you in years! Oh my gosh, what has it been?” Or “Kym, is that really you?” I think they are hoping the answer is “no.” Or that they can tune into the story of my downfall on TMZ.
I flatter myself that TMZ would care. Like I’m Rhianna or Madonna or something. At best there’s a private Facebook group where they would tear me to shreds. “She really let herself go.”
Am who I am
Yesterday I made an effort. I fluffed, glossed and tucked. I was looking not too shabby — for me. I ran errands. I was local. I was everywhere in my own zip code. During this time I ran into exactly no people I know! None.
Having a photo in the paper every week for over a decade I’ve gotten used to being told I look “taller in person.” Taller than a one-by-one inch square black and white photo? Why, thank you. I’ll take it. I’ve come to the conclusion I am what I am. As it is I look decent in my byline photo, and that’s close enough to reality for me.
If you should see me out in public and I look like I dressed in the dark and don’t own a comb, please cover for me. “No, that’s not Kymberly Foster Seabolt. She’s cuter and much better dressed in person.”
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