Friends, fashion, Friday
I received a call this evening from a dear friend. One of the people I love most in the world. "Of such small acts are memorable days made." Thanks for checking up on me, dear Lurker. I appreciate it more than I can say.

So, have you seen the TLC show What Not to Wear? Women, labeled "fashion disasters" by their friends and family get nominated for makeovers. Two fashion experts (one of whom I think might be just the slightest bit gay) trash her wardrobe (both verbally and literally) give her $5000 and a week of shopping (with their advice) in New York. The week concludes with hair and makeup and the big debut back home where the family and friends are suitably impressed.

I have nightmares like this.

I am fortunate to have many wonderful female friends. Many, like the aforementioned Lurker, the Foreigner, Ms. S de M, the Belle of Belfast City, and Mama D are beautiful, stylish, chic, sexy...all those wonderful female adjectives. And then there's me....the fashion conscience objector. Remember me, I was married in jeans and a vintage purple tux jacket from a thrift store. My make-up bag consists entirely of Chap-Stick. My beauty routine is lather, rinse, repeat. I hate to shop (except for books and music). I hate trying on clothes. I hate having to keep taking your shoes off and put them back on again (I really hate that part). And I have no doubt that at least one of my beautiful female friends has on more than one occasion wished I could be made over. Or at least kidnapped for a day and forced at gunpoint into a dress and some mascara just to see what you got in the end.

I am proud to say that I am the least feminine woman I know. I'm not sure where that comes from. My mother and sisters like their lipstick and heels. They're not exactly girly girls, but they do like to get dressed up, put on perfume, and layer on the eye shadow. I, on the other hand, like to pull on my jeans, run a comb through my hair, and get the hell on with my day. I've never tried to be fashionable because I've never wanted to be.

No, really.

It's odd, because many people perceive an unfashionable woman as one that is lacking in self-confidence. And while I'll admit that I'm completely insecure about a lot of things...I've never really given my appearance any thought. My naughty bits are covered, my shirt is clean, my jeans have no holes, that's about it for me. I've never wanted to be in style, although according to Husband I do have a style. It's just quirky. (Thank god for men who love anti-girls!) I think if someone nominated me for a makeover show I'd refuse. Not because I'm insecure, but because I really am happy with who I am and how I am.

Happy Friday, dearies. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend.