Girly Girls

I have never been overly girly.  Throughout college, my idea of getting dressed up involved a pair of red tie-dyed Birkenstock, black t-shirt and khaki pants.  Now it’s progressed to fancy flip-flops, dark jeans and not putting a Patagonia over my black t-shirt.

Yes, of course I own high heels and much fancier clothing, but those hardly come out of the closet.  It’s hard to want to get all dolled up when Wes rolls out of the bedroom in a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers.  We are both to blame for the over-all non-fanciness of our evenings.

But, as I was saying: I am, in general, not a girly girl.  My hair dries straight and doesn’t hold a curl, so why bother with the blow dryer?  My freckles are dark and many, so why deal with foundation?  My job is in a warehouse so who cares about the nice pants and dress shirts in my closet?

I try small things to start feeling like I’m more girly less tomboy-ish.  Like when I cut my hair last year.  But that fell through when I refused to wake up early enough to blow it dry and style it.  Most recently I cut my bangs and have been trying that out.  I even bought a flat iron this weekend and was able to use it this morning.  Guess what?  It makes a huge difference and I hate that I’m going to have to wake up 20 minutes earlier so that I can fix my hair at the gym before I go to work.

But what I hate even more is when guys tell me that they don’t like girls who are high maintenance with looks.  They like a natural girl who wears little to no make up; they like a girl who can ski the entire mountain without complaining – who wants to ski the entire mountain; they want a girl who wants to hike and run and bike and do all those adventure thing.  In reality, though, it seems like their fantasy is the woman in heels whose hair and makeup is done every morning.

In college I was hopelessly in (what I thought was) love with a guy who treated me like shit.  Who said how awesome I was and smart and funny and beautiful.  But who ended up falling for a friend who wasn’t as funny or smart or awesome.  But she was always dolled up.  Heels and hair and clothes and makeup.

When I was working in the restaurant I would hear all the time that women wear too much make up, and guys like the natural look.  But the days when I would come into work with make up on is when I would receive compliements on how I looked – not more compliments than usual, I wasn’t getting complimented without makeup.

I get it.  Everyone wants a partner who looks good and who can get fancy.  I’m just tired of the contradiction.  I’m tired of the way I feel when I hear it.  I’m tired of trying to feel like I have to be two different people.  I hate the way high heels feel.  I like the way they look, but when I’m wearing them I’m much more irritable because guess what?  They fucking hurt.  All those fun things I’m up for when I’m dressed casually just go out the window.  Do I want to walk down to that next bar to have a drink?  Fuck no.  I want to take a cab two blocks because the cuter the heel, the more it hurts.

I try to glam up my outfits but, as I stated before, that now includes nicer flip-flops and a sweater instead of some hiking/running apparel.

I may start straightening my hair in the morning in an attempt to not look like I just rolled out of bed, but I’m never going to be that girl who picks out heels to go to a movie or wears wedges to the beach.

And I think I’m okay with that.

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