In my twenties, when I was young and carefree, I rented a house with four other women. We all worked, dated, and fret about the number of pizza slices we ate in front of the blinking black and white TV on Friday nights. We were obsessed with clothes, the number on the scale, and finding Mr. Right. Maybe not so carefree...
Our lone bathroom quickly became overflowing with lotions and potions, hair "painting" kits, pink shaving foams, and bottles of nail polish. Although we each had our own personal needs, we gradually came to see how much fun it could be to unite and conquer our challenges collectively. Thus, Beauty Parlor Night was born.
We had lots of giggles and laughs running in and out of each others' rooms trying on lipsticks and giving each other manicures. We shared dating horror stories as well as gave advice to the poor roommate who happened to be lovelorn that week. We spent a lot of time cross-legged on each others' beds with Mint Julep Mask on our faces and towels wrapped around our heads.
For me, Beauty Parlor Night is still sacrosanct even though my routine has become much simpler. - I'm less concerned with trying new makeup colors and much more passionate about good skincare and smooth and lovely feet. And it's imperative that my beauty regime eases me into a good nights sleep which is by far the best beauty aid of all for someone my age.
Like penguins tossing themselves to the sea, my roommates and I disbanded and plunged one-by-one into marriages. I miss the young women I lived and "played" with long ago and was thrilled to chat with one recently. "What are you doing at home tonight?", she asked. "I just stepped out of a lavender honey bath. You"? "I stole my daughter's blue nail polish and it's drying on my toes", she replied.
Note: Next post up, "What I Did For