Thursday, August 7, 2008
A friend invited me to a Henna party the other night. There were 7 or 8 women, all friends or friends of friends. And one of them painted Henna on various parts of our bodies. As you can see, I got mine on my left hand. I really like looking at it which is strange, because ever since my family got robbed when I was 16 and the burglars made off with only my haphazard assortment of teenage jewelry, I have pretty much ignored external adornments, tinted or otherwise. Since I work at home, I don't pay much attention to the clothes I wear, tending toward shapeless t-shirts and jeans. I don't wash my hair or shower every single day. I don't wear make-up. On the other hand, I'd never wear sneakers with a skirt. We all have our limits.
But the reason that I'm writing all this is that at this party I felt completely unglamorous, and even a bit frumpy. I don't have anything against glamour, I even admire it. I'm just not good at it. But then I had this thought: it's probably a good thing for our daughters to see all sorts of moms at all levels of glamour, who all do cool and interesting things. I volunteer to be the one with little glamour but lots of pigs, gourds, and wikis.