Somebody Tell Them

So I walk into a community meeting last year, my first in my new job. I don't yet know what exactly this rural county has in store for me, but I've been given a pretty good idea by a couple of my coworkers with the 80s bang explosion, the little sunburst mini-mullet teased into perfection on the top of their heads. My coworkers come from tobacco farming families, and many of them have never left this county in their lives (that's county, not countRy). This makes them wonderful, salt-of-the-earth type homey people who will bring ten pounds of lasagna or chili beans to a wake and clean the bereaved's bathroom while she's entertaining guests in the parlor. This also means that 80s fashion still rules, and we see a lot of color coordinated turtlenecks under quilted vests with fun animal scenes sewn on, and also lots of blouses with eye-popping shoulder pads and great big polka dots. The dangly ball earrings match the color of the polka dots. The socks match the color of the blouse background. The blouse is tucked into pants with reams and reams of front pleats and tapered legs, and occasionally, they have the stirrups on the bottom. On the outside of the socks.


So back to my meeting. This meeting is in the power plant. We're having hot dogs for lunch, and then the mayor will make lots of excuses for why our water bills are about to shoot into the stratosphere. I get in line for my hot dog, and then I see her.

Oh dear.

Not only is the wig clearly made of fake hair - it doesn't fall like normal hair, more like a Barbie's hair looks, after you've played with her for 6 months - it is also a little crooked. It, too, is teased into the pompom of 80s bangs look. It is a flat, matte black, long in back and pinned up at the side. It is also much larger than this tiny woman's head. As I later said to my friend who also attends these meetings - could this tragic wig possibly look better than what's under it?

The icing on the face - er - cake, is, well, her face. This lady is cute. She has a cute tiny body and a cute pixie face. She's one of those people who could pull off a short, choppy 'do that spikes all over the place and really emphasizes her delicate features. Instead, she wears this cumbersome wig and spackles her face with pink. Pink pink pink, pink cheeks, pink lips, pink eyeshadow. Like, magenta pink, rather than a pale delicate pink. It looks like somebody took a squeeze bag of icing left over from a little girl's pink princess birthday cake and frosted her face.

While I am definitely growing devil horns for making fun of a poor woman who is just trying to look good - I just wish somebody who knew her would tell her. Not many people have the raw material that you have, lady. I wish you'd stop hiding under all of that out-of-date stuff and be who you be. I'm here to tell you, via an anonymous blog that you'll never read because you probably don't have internet - that you are a beautiful woman. The world wants to see more of you, and less of your fashion faux pas. Take a deep breath, tell yourself three times each morning in the mirror "I am beautiful. I am beautiful. I am beautiful. This is 2007. This is 2007. This is 2007." Then step out into the world as you. Be brave. Love yourself enough to cast off the ridiculous disguise. Or, alternatively, spend a little more on higher grade materials.

Peace and devil horns to all of you. We love you, whatever fashion era you embrace - but we don't promise to take you seriously. G