No Makeup: Day One

No one said anything about my lack of makeup. I went to get my hair cut and colored by my friend, Marybeth, and then we went out to lunch. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. 

I was pretty worried about how I'd look at the salon, because it has overhead florescent lighting, the kind that makes toddlers look like they've aged and generally does nothing for 42-year-olds. But I didn't look that bad. And I had a long time to look at myself. Other than my eyelashes, which have disappeared, I thought I looked okay. My cheeks were even kind of pink. Maybe I got some sun, or I'm windburned or something. Maybe it's all the smoothies I've been drinking. 

I thought for sure Marybeth would say something, but I was wrong. After all, she's given me makeup advice before, and I've even tried her makeup while I was at the salon. She was wearing makeup. Probably she just doesn't really care one way or the other if I wear makeup. Which is cool. 

The few other people I saw were complete strangers or mere acquaintances. If someone from that category commented, it would seem mean, I think. Our server at the Mexican restaurant where we had lunch had naturally gray hair, which always makes me a little jealous. Can't say that out loud, though, when you're having lunch with your hair stylist. 

Me this morning, me with hair dye on my head at the salon (note the enhanced wrinkles and other lines around my eyes thanks to the lighting), and me back home in natural light, with better hair. I think the lighting in our bathroom, where I've taken most of my selfies, is actually pretty good. Who knew. 

Me this morning, me with hair dye on my head at the salon (note the enhanced wrinkles and other lines around my eyes thanks to the lighting), and me back home in natural light, with better hair. I think the lighting in our bathroom, where I've taken most of my selfies, is actually pretty good. Who knew. 

Getting my hair colored is probably the least frugal thing I do, other than drive a car. It's complicated by the fact that Marybeth is my friend (we were friends before she started doing my hair) and this is nearly the only time we see each other because she lives on the other side of the river (aka Illinois). And I really like the way she does my color. And I've never colored my own hair except for once in high school when I managed to make it kind of apricot. 

On the other hand, millions of women color their own hair. I'm sure I could learn. 

But for now, I'm not wearing makeup, so that lets me off the hook on the hair thing. Maybe? 

Also, I'm getting tired of taking pictures of myself. On the one hand, I think I've got the selfie thing figured out and I now know where to look, to make it appear I'm looking at the camera. I know, everyone knows how to do that, but prior to this week, I really had no reason to learn. Later this week, I may go back to cat pictures. We'll see. 

My hair Saturday night, after the color faded over six weeks, and today again right after Marybeth colored it. Marybeth actually does a great job styling it, too, but I messed it up on the way home by having the windows down. 

My hair Saturday night, after the color faded over six weeks, and today again right after Marybeth colored it. Marybeth actually does a great job styling it, too, but I messed it up on the way home by having the windows down.