If I Had $141,037.97

I recently confessed to a dear friend that my husband has a crush on Jennifer Aniston circa 1995. As in: he loves Rachael Green. I used to spend hours watching “Friends” and then I’d make the mistake of looking in the mirror. I was hideous! HIDEOUS!
I’d suck in my stomach. I’d tug at my eyes. And then I’d feel exactly like the girl from The Princess Diaries who stood in front of her full-length mirror, sighing and saying, “Once again, this is as good as it’s going to get.”
I told my friend that I don’t watch “Friends” much anymore.
A few days later she called me and said she’d just read a news article that detailed how much money Jennifer Aniston spent on her beauty routines.
It’s $141,037.97 annually.

via

WELL! If I had that kind of money to invest in my beauty, I’d be a blithering knock-out!
Of course if I had that kind of money AT ALL, I’d just use it to buy a house. But I digress.

Yesterday I didn’t do my hair or make-up. I normally DO, even if I’m not going anywhere simply because I enjoy doing it. I enjoy 30 minutes of alone time it takes to style my hair and plaster my face with paint. I don’t spend a lot of money of beauty products (thanks be to the inflation gods), and I haven’t been to a beauty salon since August ’11.
No foolin.

When my husband came home from work, and I was mid-bite into the a fancy mint brownie I muttered an apology for my appearance.
“Sorry I don’t look all that great,” I said, milk and cocoa dripping from my lower lip.
Also: I was sporting socks and my dirty tennis shoes. I have to wear my heel, people! I spent last night on the couch crocheting myself some slippers that are heel friendly so I can walk around the house with even legs.
(PS: I’ve always been terrible at yoga, and I’m blaming my uneven legs. In fact, I’m doing my best to blame most all of my problems on my short leg. It’s going swimmingly.)
As I sat on the couch, surrounded by a pile of the ugliest shade of orange yarn you’ve ever seen (trying to use up scraps, see) and counting stitches… with my hair frizzled out around my face, and no make-up to mask my blemishes or enhance my lashes… I proudly held up the first finished slipper.
“DONE!” I announced to my husband. He smiled at me.
AND THEN
He told me that I was glowing and beautiful.

I think he might be sick, but that’s beside the point.
The point is while Jennifer Aniston is stunning, I think I’d go crazy having to fuss so much over my looks all of the time.
It’s nice to look nice, but isn’t there more to life than that?
And anyway, I don’t know about you but lately I’ve come to really appreciate and love the natural woman. The more TV I see… the more pinterest pins that reek on the edge of soft pornography and say things like, “These 5 tricks will change your life” and all you can think is “I’m horribly ugly and NEED those 5 tricks to SURVIVE”…
Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah: the more projection of perfection I see, the more I come to appreciate a REAL woman. I appreciate her curves, her rolls, her wonderful serving and selfless hands. I love her wrinkles and her grey hair. I love her understanding tears and watching her sway back and forth out of habit whether she’s holding a baby or not. I see her walking for fitness and clarity. I see her enduring trials unimaginable. I see her fighting fearlessly and loving endlessly.
Women -natural women -are breathlessly beautiful.

And I’m not just saying that to make myself feel better about my rolls and lack of beauty routine cash.  And really: I wonder if Jennifer Aniston wouldn’t kill to not keep up on beauty for awhile, but she can’t… because she’s always got someone jabbing a  camera in her face and plastering her pictures on magazines.  Poor lass.  I’d kill myself, rolls first.

And as much as I love natural beauty, I’m blessed to be the canvas of a blossoming artist.

 
Jennifer Aniston,
Eat your heart out.