Beauty School Dropout

The Italian Mammas at my children’s school are all extremely glamorous.  They’re thin – none of them look as though they’ve ever consumed a slice of pizza, let alone an entire Hawaiian washed down with several beers.  They dress in high heels and their designer label clothes are chic and tailored.  Their hair is coiffed, they wear heavy make-up and quite a few of them have an enhanced trout pout.

I am not a skinny Minnie.  I’m happy if my hair has been brushed that week and my idea of full make-up is a slick of lip salve.  I don’t do heels and I live in a pair of slouchy jeans bought on sale from F&F (yes, from the fashion mecca that is Tesco…).  As long as young children don’t run screaming when I leave the house, then I’m good to go.

But, in the spirit of becoming more Italian, I wasted spent a whole morning attempting to bring myself up to the polished heights of these Roman yummy mummies.  I removed dead skin from feet (a Black & Decker sander came in handy), I removed 60% of my body hair (including from strange places that never sprouted hair twenty years ago), I exfoliated, I buffed.  I gave myself a pedicure and a manicure.  A facial.  And at the end of the morning, I look exactly the same and was bloody knackered.  How on earth can anyone call this ‘pampering’?

Why do magazines like Cosmo or Vogue persist in running articles about treating yourself with a pedicure or having some well deserved Me Time* by spending an evening in with a face pack.   The Cosmo website features articles such as ‘Your beach body begins here’, ’10 steps to perfect skin’ or ‘Oy wrinkley!  How dare you show your bingo wings and turkey neck in public?!’   Ok, possibly not that last one.

I’m sure FHM has never written an article for men entitled ‘Why not pamper yourself with a shave’ or ‘Enjoy some Me Time in the shower’ (although on second thoughts…)  But for some crazy reason women are supposed to enjoy this constant effort of making themselves look acceptable to society.

Well, we don’t.  Or is it just me, and you love to spend time ensuring you don’t turn into an old crone with chin whiskers and feet tough enough to walk on nails??  Let me know!

*I can’t bear this expression: Me Time.  I find it incredibly annoying and a bit demeaning that it’s usually used about women doing stereotypical lady activities such as relaxing in a bubble bath with a low-calorie hot chocolate.  Why do men just get to spend time doing the crossword, fixing a car or playing golf without it being given a ridiculous and patronising label?

Now I think about it, there are so many other phrases that annoy me that they deserve a whole post of their own – watch this space.   (Actually, that could be one of them!)