The Things We Do: Reflections on Being a (Girly) Girl

My morning was pretty typical:  I woke up, slugged down some coffee, and crammed in some last-minute reading before class.  And of course, I showered and got ready...despite the fact that I was only slightly prepared for class.  I never did finish the Evidence reading, but showering and fixing my hair definitely took precedence.  I can always B.S. in class, but I can't fake clean hair, right?  Right.  So off to the shower.

Halfway through my shower, the hot water heater decided to give up (this is a reoccurring fact at my house).  At the same moment, my shower caddy decided to fall off the wall, making for a lovely flourish of cold water and shampoo bottles landing on my head.  I'm entirely innocent when it comes to the hot water heater, but I knew the shower caddy was destined to fall.  It could only hold 4 bottles of Aveda shampoo/conditioner, 3 bottles of body wash, 2 bottles of face wash, shaving cream, a bath poofy, razor, and hair clip for so long.  But really, I NEED all those things.  NEED. 

After my traumatic shower, I didn't feel like going through the hassle of putting on makeup and getting ready.  But as I stared at my bulging makeup bag, I felt like I had to do the preparation.  I mean, there is probably $500 of makeup in there!  Not to mention that I have a growing motley of forehead/eye wrinkles that need to be covered up (I swear, I woke up on my 25th birthday to find them suddenly there...).  So I did my girly routine of moisturizing (face, arms, legs), make-up, perfume, and drying my hair...all while grumbling about my two X chromosomes.

As I was burning my fingers off while straightening my hair with the Chi, a thought hit me:  "Why the hell am I doing this?"  I spent 15 minutes fixing my hair, only to walk in the extreme winds on my way to class, where absolutely no one will care if the back of my hair has a kink.  Let's be honest--law school is not exactly a fashion parade.  But nevertheless, I still stood there and burned off my fingers for 5 more minutes to ensure that the back of my hair was, in fact, perfectly straight.  Because in the grand scheme of things, that really matters.  Definitely. 

Finally, I got dressed, which was more like a clothes circus:  jumping through hoops (i.e. into tights), rings of fire (me cursing), cannonballs (clothes hurled on the floor as I changed my mind), etc.  Well over an hour of pulling, priming, prepping, powdering, perfuming, and pain later, I was ready.  As I looked in the mirror one final time, I answered my own question:  Because I secretly like jumping through all the hoops.  It makes me feel like a woman, whether that's right or wrong.  When I feel pretty, I feel better about myself.  It's that simple.  And the fact that if I can't be the smartest girl in law school, I can try to be the best dressed.  

And will I do it all tomorrow?  You bet.  But hopefully the hot water lasts.