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Getting hot
"Okay,I’mjustnotsure that it’s really...me?"
"That’s the whole point!” Natalia, the Polish hairdresser styling me, announced as she swiveled me around to look in the mirror. "You’re totally new. Look! Don’t you love it?”
I stared at myself in the mirror for a long moment and tried to come up with the words to react to what I saw in front of me. It wasn’t just the hair, which I had paid Natalia to change – it was everything. Everything that I had put effort into over the last few weeks, it was finally starting to show, and I felt like I could see a whole new version of myself gazing back at my reflection in the mirror.
I had started off easy – purging my wardrobe and going around to the charity shops in town to see what I could find. I tried on pretty much everything all of them had in my size in the hopes of stumbling across something that worked for me, and I swear, I was on the point of becoming the first person ever to be outright banned from coming back to a charitable shop. I had dressed in my flowy clothes and long skirts for so long I had practically forgotten that there was anything else out there for me, but I managed to come across a few little bits and pieces that worked to change up what I already had without utterly changing the fundamentals of how I knew I felt comfortable. Some fitted jeans, some minimalist shirts that I had gotten tailored to hug around the actual shape of my body. Yeah, I was always going to be a hippy at heart, but that didn’t mean that I could play dress-up as other characters too, did it?
My friend Emily had been more than happy to help out when I told her that I needed to update my make-up collection. Most of the products I owned, I had had since I was in high school, and I figured even for the sake of hygiene it was worth trying out something new. I didn’t have much of a budget, but Emily was a make-up artist and knew all the cheap brands that secretly had great products. She let me pick her brain for hours, and even spent an afternoon showing me how to actually apply the stuff with some level of skill. Before that, I had known that contouring existed only as an abstract notion, but now I was nearly a dab hand at it myself.
And, of course, when I had finally let Mallory in on the truth of what I was doing, she had practically insisted that she set up an online dating profile for me.
"I don’t know if I’m there yet..." I had protested, but she had waved her hand as she entered my details.
"If you’re not there now, you’re never going to be," she replied. "This way you can get to know them a little before you meet them, right? You won’t just be heading out on dates at random."
"Not that I’m exactly doing that now," I pointed out.
"You’re going to get out there and meet someone, I know it," she promised me, and I fought the urge to pull a face. I knew that she was just being positive, but I was still kind of nervous about the thought of getting out there into the world and just...and justdoingthe whole dating thing again. It had been so long since I had dared let myself stray there even inside my own head, not after what had happened with my ex...
"Hey, and no getting hung up thinking about what happened with the last guy you dated," she warned me, as though she could somehow see inside my head. I grinned at her. She was my best friend, after all – it was her job to get to know me inside and out. And it seemed like she had me totally figured out, whether I liked it or not.
"I’ll try," I promised her.
"Now, what age range were you thinking for this next dude?" She asked. "Someone a little older? Younger?"
"I think someone older is what I’m looking for," I replied firmly. "I don’t want to get involved with some kid, do I? Not if I actually want to settle down..."
"I guess so," She agreed. "So your age, maybe into their forties?"
"I’ll let it down to thirty-five at the low end," I offered, hoping that it was going to be enough. "Just to widen my horizons."
"I’m not sure that your horizons are very widened with two more years, but alright," she agreed, giggling. "Man, this is fun. Do you think I should just forget about teaching and become a matchmaker?"
"See if you can make me a match first, and then we’ll see," I replied, and she cocked her head, conceding the point.
"I’m sure I’m going to be able to do it," She told me. "You’re a catch. You’re going to be beating them back with a stick, trust me..."
"I’m not sure I have the energy for that," I groaned, and she punched me lightly on the arm.
"Come on, it’s summer, you’re starting over," she reminded me. "You’ve got energy for anything, don’t you?"
"Within reason," I agreed, and she suddenly pointed her phone at my face.
"Okay, I need some pictures of you..."
"Why can’t we just use the ones that I already have?" I protested, and she peered at me over the top of the phone for a moment.
"The ones that they took at the last school photo day?" She asked. "I’m not sure that puts forth the image you’re trying to cultivate here..."
"Worth a shot, right?" I joked. "Maybe then they’d know that I’m serious about settling down..."
"Maybe so," she agreed. "But you’re changing up your look. We want pictures that reflect that. Come on, smile..."
I posed for the pictures and tried not to feel too nervous about the way I looked now. I had to find some confidence, imbue it in the way that I moved through the world now. I wanted men to stop and stare at me. I knew it was a crazy thought, but maybe if I shot for the stars, I would land somewhere high in the sky, at least?
Mallory had consulted with me over the hairstyle that I was going to take on as part of this change, and we had settled on something simple and feminine and cute. I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time – I guess it was something of a safety blanket, keeping it long and tawny and flowy, but it needed to go. Long hair was for princesses, and I was ready to graduate into my own royalty.
