The High Cost of Faking It

I had my own private 'tacky party' last night. The theme of our studio dance this month was Flower Power and as I assembled my bright and flowery outfit, I couldn't help but notice the many ways in which my fakeness is failing me.

My fake finger nails are growing out. Granted, at a distance you don't really notice. But up close and personal (thankfully no one gets too close to me), they are tacky. A ridge where the fakeness begins and the real nail has grown out. I tried nail polish. I only succeeded in drawing attention to my tacky, grown out nails ...

Then there are the gel toe nails. Oh, I loved the way they perfectly matched my fingers and looked so well tended. Unfortunately it has been winter and I haven't been able to expose my beautiful toe nails (ugly feet; pretty toes). The only disadvantage of fake toe nails? An almost fatal loss of a toenail when my toe got in the way of my dance partners feet. And now ... it has been 2 months. It is time to tend to them. Cutting fake nails is like setting off a missile launch. They go the distance (I never did find all 10 clippings when I clipped the excessive length off of my finger nails after the dance competition). I thought I'd wait until spring so that I could do that little chore outside. In the meantime, the thought of someone catching their shoe on my longer toenails makes me cringe in fear.

Oh. And I never did write about my completely frivolous indulgence. Eyelash extensions. I had never heard of them before. They are so cool. I wake up in the mornings and I have eyes. Between my hair cut that looks the same in the morning as it did the day before (not always a good thing, but it beats bed-head), I wake up in the morning and I'm ready! No excessive primping required. I wrote of wanting to wake up, looking like the 'Noxema Girl' a while ago. Granted, I am more like the 30 year old Noxema girl's mother ... but I wake up looking 'as good as it gets'. Another dream fulfilled.

The downfall of those fake eyelashes? Maintenance.

I've been busy the past two weeks and couldn't book an appointment for an 'eyelash fill' (who would have ever guessed that worry would be taking up space in my brain?). Anyway ... I looked in the mirror yesterday and only found one and a half eyes. Half of the lashes from my left eye have fallen off. Last night, I tried desperately to fill the vacancy with mascara to cover up my naked (but very real) lashes.

Between my grown out, tacky, painted fingernails ... to my toenails that had me wishing to dance with steel toes ... to my half 'bald' left eye ... I felt very ill at ease walking into a social setting. Add to that, a vibrant orange tie-dyed dress to my ankles (if you dare call it a dress - it was two flaps of material sewn together at the shoulders, with a hole for my head to go through. I was tied together (and safety pinned and double knotted, with a full dress worn underneath so as to not take any chances if any of my safety precautions failed and I was fully exposed) and flowers in my hair.

I had to make a quick stop at the ATM and mailbox before the dance and I tried to avert my eyes from anyone who may notice me. Heaven forbid that anyone should think that I was under the dillusion that I looked good. Youngest Son looked at me in my tacky, flower-power get up and asked if I really had to go out in public looking like ... that!?

But you know what? I walked into the dance studio and forgot everything. I danced, I wafted, I laughed, I visited and had fun, fun, fun. I forgot about my tackiness and the ill conceived costume that I was wearing.

Then I got home.

I looked in the mirror and wondered "I really looked like this? All night?" Reality. Fakeness and tackiness revealed.

My Eyelash Girl takes credit cards. My next appointment is booked. I shall have eyes for another month.

My Nail Lady takes cash. That takes a little more forethought. But I get a month-end pay cheque today, which would cover the cost.

There is a price to be paid for all of this. The high cost of looking like the (aged) Noxema Girl's plain looking mother. Where does it end??

P.S. Another one year ago today post that echos this one (click here)