Long-term readers of this blog know that for a good chunk of the time, I haven’t been feeling at my most beautiful. Nor have I had the needed confidence to sustain me through a period when all eyes will be on me.
Attempts at getting those levels up have always been brought to a halt thanks to my inability to find a hairdresser who understands what I want (for a reasonable price) and everyone and their mother suggesting I introduce huge lifestyle changes just because I am a bride.
This past weekend though, those issues were resolved. I can breathe in a sigh of relief because I finally have my beauty appointments in place. Just around the time where I should be jumping up and down shouting that I’m getting married.
Okay, I couldn’t compromise on the price and learned that everyone here is in on the scam of hiking the prices up by 10 times, but at least I am led to believe that this guy gets it.After all, it was my mother’s suggestion to go for someone she’s known for years.
I tell you, mothers do save the day, but this better be worth it.
Then there’s the makeup. This was never an issue and I had known since day 1 where I would get that done. What I never accounted for was the fact that the beautician needs an hour and a half of work. Because this is bridal makeup.
I don’t get it. It takes me 10 minutes every morning to get my eyeliner and mascara on and I look fabulous and it lasts all day. Why does she need an hour and a half? What exactly will she be doing? Coating my skin with layer after layer of foundation like she’s painting some wall? Finely drawing on the line or applying mascara on every individual lash?
Again, this better be worth it.
I know that I might not agree with how they do bridal beauty in this country. I know that I recoil in horror whenever someone shows me pictures of women with elaborate designs and incredible volume (and don’t forget the princess tiara) on their wedding day. I know I completely shun anything sparkly and overdone. And I am completely against not knowing the person because of how made up she is.
But one feeling I cannot disagree with?
You can’t help BUT feel like you’re getting married once there’s a veil on your head. I don’t know what happens or how there’s this complete transformation- you just get that feeling. I never though that a piece of fabric with some lace could lead to such a warm fuzzy sensation.
I know I got it when the saleslady and my mother pinned the veil on my messy, curly hair, just to try it on. I looked at the mirror, with my dress reflecting in the corner, and I couldn’t help but think, maybe this will all be worth it.