I've never been a particularly girly girl.
Now, please understand: I like to dress like a girl. My jeans are carefully chosen to accentuate and flatter my curves. I wear skirts and dresses routinely. I tend to flowing fabrics and bright colors.
Attitudinally, however, I'm not very girly. No squealing in disgust at a fart, no racing in terror from snakes or spiders. I'm not squeamish about blood and guts, I'm not prissy about sex. I don't throw like a girl, and I'm not afraid to sweat and grunt when I work out.
And I never really did "get" the idea of a "beauty regime". Seems an oxymoron, really. Anything that calls itself a "regime" lacks a certain, oh, gaeity, joie de vivre, spontaneity. More to do with drill sergeants, drudgery and drab than beauty.
But you know what? Time is pretty regimental. It marches inexorably on, taking pity on no woman.
So when my kids bought me a skin care kit for women "of a certain age", I was pleased by their thoughtfulness. (What ARE they thinking, anyway? Trying to tell me something, are they?) I was willing to give it a go. I was also a bit non-plussed. I'm a wash-and-go girl. Some soap, some water, a little moisturizer or sunscreen.
This kit has three post-soap (or "luxury cleanser") steps. THREE. FOUR steps in all. You mean I have to do four steps every day? What's that you say? TWICE a day?
Oh. Gee, thanks, kids.
But since I am, above almost all things, a Good Mother, I smiled in (fake) delighted appreciation and started using the stuff. Besides, I'd seen it in the store. I know just how much they paid. No wonder it took all three of them! Was I about to tell them they'd wasted all that money? Who could do that to their children? Not me!
And you know what? I find myself enjoying my "regime"! I even bought myself a cool (and highly overpriced) headband from Lululemon to keep my hair out of the way. I'm accessorizing my beauty regime! Me!
Though I approached it as an obligation and another chore in a busy day, it has become a tiny oasis of me-time. It's just for me, it's all mine, nobody else's. A few minutes of pampering to bracket my day gives me a sense of having taken care of my own needs before embarking on everyone else's. It feels good.
Healthy skin as a means to mental health. Who knew?