I not plugged into daily life outside of the northeast but in the area of the country it’s hard for a man to shop, wait for a doctor’s appointment, visit a school without wanting to retch at how many of the women look. Especially women of a certain age, say late thirties to early sixties. Because a broad (no pun intended) swath are into what we could call the Balkan Refugee Look. Their hair looks like they just stuck a finger in an electrical outlet, bad facials, indeed no make-up at all, their mouth a bitter closed slash, their dress some sort of billowing dark ethnic fabric, no bra and of course all wear a perpetually offended expression on their face while clopping by in scuffed up slip-ons.
And the epidemic is spreading. Why I don’t know. Maybe they’re all discarded first wives and that number is growing but it might be interesting to find out whether going grunge correlated with the divorce. In some cases I’m certain it’s the dreaded LBD which has their knickers in a twist but again one can speculate about whether their deterioration in grooming preceded that condition too.
I don’t care! For Pete’s sake comb your damn hair. Take a shower. Smile. Dress in solid colors. Join the NRA for a model of how together women look and conduct themselves.
Oh and by the way stop volunteering at the food pantry, thinking of yourself as a “healer”, hanging around the library to use somebody else’s computer, obsessing about George W. Bush, wearing peace sign brass necklaces or Indian prayer beads and buying avocados.
We all now how you feed your face when you’re alone.
And why you are.