The other day I posted:
“Just in case anyone wants to live vicariously (and glamorously) through me, I’ve been at work an hour and just noticed I left a Velcro roller in my hair.”
Confession—that’s not me.
On the bright side, I’m the first one in the office and by myself for at least an hour before anyone else comes in, so no one was witness to my beauty brilliance. On the dark side, I still felt the need to let everyone know what an ass I am.
But this isn’t the first time that I’ve done that, and it got me thinking about how I am a perpetual “Before” picture when it comes to day-to-day beauty.
If someone were to sweep me away and completely make me over, I wouldn’t object one perfectly separated eyelash. However, I have no interest in investing either the time or the money in learning how to do it myself—kind of like automotive repair or computer programming, but with more glitter and possibly more power tools.
So while I am (obsessively) clean, always smell (relatively) lovely, occasionally color my hair and get my eyebrows waxed, my general “beauty” routine consists of washing my hair, putting on a coat of foundation in the winter, mascara, a little eyeliner and chapstick.
That sounds simple enough, but there are even snags with those simple steps:
- When I wash my hair, there have been times I’ve forgotten to rinse out the conditioner, as I was too distracted reading the back of the bottle in each of the foreign languages.
- And while I start out with styling products and Velcro rollers in the morning, by the afternoon I’ve usually resigned myself to the fact that my hair would like to join my chest in remaining flat and lifeless. Bobby pins are inserted—in my hair, not my bra—and I move on.
- I have directly applied foundation to my eyeball, resulting in a beige splotch and searing pain.
- Using an eyelash curler is a daily thing, despite the fact that there have been times more times than I can count when I’ve pinched the skin near my eye with the damn thing and unleashed a string of profanity that scares my eyelashes straight again.
- I have sneezed immediately after applying a coat of mascara and then forget that I sneezed immediately after applying a coat of mascara—more than once. It’s attractive.
- We won’t even get into my clothes, but let’s just say that I do have my “good” T-shirts/jeans/yoga pants/tennis shoes when I need to be classy.
Hey, I go for comfort.
And it seems whenever I do try and make an effort, I wind up at work with a Velcro roller in my head, resentment over having to wear a real “big girl” bra (for social convention, not out of necessity) and chicken tracks under my eyes until I remember to look in the mirror.
Plus, my real goal in life is not to learn how to French manicure, but rather to get through a meal without dropping some morsel of food on my “good” T-shirt or finding the fabric softener sheet in my sleeve before someone else does.
But in an effort to make me feel better, a stunning friend of mine who actually works in the beauty industry shared her latest snafu. It seems she wore her fake (black) eyelashes to bed and woke up to find what she thought was a huge black spider on her leg, freaked out and started swatting at it with the ferocity of a home run hitter.
In actuality, it was her fake eyelashes stuck to her ass.
That made me feel a little better, if only for the visual.
So here’s your chance to confess your beauty blunders—or those of a “friend”—in a safe and caring environment.
Was it toilet paper stuck to the shoe? A glob of food in your hair or teeth? Fake eyelashes stuck to your ass?
Remember we’re not laughing at you, we’re laughing with you.
One day I did my makeup in the car on the way to work and only put eye shadow & mascara on one eye.
OH and once I had a pair of panties stuck to my pants.
Both equally as embarassing, but the eye-thing was pointed out to me by a coworker as the panty thing was discovered before anyone else noticed.
First, now I know you’re “that” girl who actually puts makeup on in the car.
Second, how the hell do you get underwear stuck to your pants? (I hate the word “panties.” Sorry.)
This is all so me. I am a perpetual mess. It took me years to learn I had to straighten the back of my hair too even though I can’t see it. This does not mean I do it all the time. I also am terrible at taking dry cleaning tags of coats. Just today some girl (in very nice yoga clothes) in class just removed three tags from my outfit. Ugh.
I also kind of forget about things I can’t see, which oddly enough, includes anything on my face or the back of my body. And don’t feel bad, as I’ve left tags and those sticker things on clothes more times than I can remember.
I got one of those “callous shaver” thingys for my feet.
Trust me. I have growths. (I live in Florida. Socks, say what?)
Glorified razor blade.
Blood was shed. And then I tried again. And again.
PS- I used to purposely make my hair crazy or put a huge lipstick mark on my face and go up to coworkers and act completely normal. I found it hilarious. Putting them in the awkward and also to see who would actually not say anything. Loved it. Cheap thrills. (We were a tight knit bunch in a comfy office culture) #boredatwork
Surprisingly? No one ever copped up. It shocked me….I figured as soon as I walked up to the cubicle they would bust out laughing.
A number of years ago my arm suddenly decided to do its own thing while using an eyelash curler. It took about 6 months to grow my lashes back.
I apologize for laughing at you!! 😀 because I am. finding a roller in your hair AT WORK is awesome. hee hee… still laughing.
I am the same way, though, and actually worse, really… I don’t even have the patience for rollers. I have such thick hair I barely have the patience to DRY it all the way (that is an arm/shoulder workout!!).
let’s see… I have more than once stabbed my eye with the mascara brush. THAT will make you yell expletives!
I have short hair, so it’s basically a feeble attempt to boost some body into my mop, most often unsuccessfully. I have a slanted ceiling in my upstairs bathroom and have managed to paint it with the mascara brush and a home hair color kit bottle more than once….
Foundation? Eyeliner? Aren’t you miss fancy pants! I had the same blusher for 8 years! What are you, a hooker? 🙂
Psh. Those are for “special” days, you know, my “hooking” days. On any given Monday I can be found with a coat of mascara and most likely a bitter expression. Don’t give me too much credit 😉
Haha! I love it. I can relate. There are many stories I could share but one that comes to mind was recently. I rarely – if ever – deign to “pop” or extract anything on my face. It’s my one and only beauty secret (DON’T TOUCH!) and I swear by it. But, sometimes you get a doozy and you have no choice put to pop that shit. So, I did. It oozed. I did the ol’ “piece of toilet paper” trick to stop the ooze. Went about my routine and rushed out to catch the train into the city. FFWD to me getting off at my stop, going to Starbucks, standing in line and ordering, getting my coffee and then running to the ladies room for a quick pee only to see that THE TP WAS STILL STUCK TO MY FACE! I had toilet paper glued to an oozing zit on my forehead for a good 2 hours. All that time I thought I was having a really good day and that everyone was checking me out…turns out they were, just not because I looked hot.
That’s really gross, but really funny. I think it evens out…
We were separated at birth?
I wear a nose ring. After delicately blowing my nose, I drove past my neighbor, I stopped, we had a brief conversation, then I drove away. When I glanced in the rearview mirror I saw Kleenx wadded up and hanging from my nose ring. Why he didn’t just tell me drives me crazy. But he didn’t. And I must have looked rediculous;)
OK, on vacation with my husband, I emerged from the bathroom, nude, after showering and what-not, and walked to the closet to pick out my evening wear. Husband was sitting across the room, by the television (obviously). He asked me if I was “surrendering”. I didn’t understand. He kindly explained to me there was a square of TP stuck in between my cheeks, fluttering ever-so-gently as I moved about. I surrendered, indeed.
I’m not allowed to leave the house until my wife, 15 yr old and 7 yr old have inspected my choice of clothes, hairbrushing, and shoes. My 8 yr old is a tomboy and equally lousy dresser/sense of fashioned as her old man.
Every stitch of clothing and grooming itenm has been selected by those 3 women. If I deviate I’m literally sent to my room. None of this is exaggerated for blog effect. It’s troof, yo.
I like it that way.
I have blocked out beauty my faux pas for the sake of my sanity and I don’t think I can dredge them up even for you, Abby dear.
But I have a habit of trying to save others from embarrassment, and have ended up embarrassing us both. A friend and I went to dinner, and I told her she had a little chunk of chicken on her decolletage that needed to be brushed off. It ended up being a mole.
Another time, I told a friend she had a long hair stuck on her chin. How was I to know it was attached? From now on (unless it’s lipstick on the teeth), my friends are on their own.
We have a lot in common! I love that you had that Velcro roller in your hair for an hour, but I wish someone had seen it! It would have been more fun that way! 🙂
Saturday night after a lovely dinner at friends’ house they kindly (as in shrieking with laughter) pointed out that my shoes didn’t match. Two completely different styles of loafer. They used to be buyers at Neiman-Marcus so I will never live this down.
I remember leaving early for work on one occasion and I got dressed in the dark so as not to disturb anyone. Got in the car, drove away listenining to the news to make sure the world was still turning in it’s normal manner and arrived at my desk. Later someone said , “Whats up with your shoes”. Looking down I saw I had one brown one on and one black. I’ve no idea how I did’nt notice
That thing with the sneezing and the mascara? Yeah, that happens to me once a week. I share in most of your blunders, except that I don’t ever curl my eyelashes or apply any eye liner, because it freaks me out to have anything close to my eye ball, including my eye lashes. (P.S. I am super impressed that you know how to do this!) As for my blunders, I have left toothpaste on my face (it dries out pimples) without realizing it, and have recently used a free roll-on perfume stick from work as chap stick on my lips and then loudly complained about how much it sucks to my co-workers and tossed in the garbage before being corrected. And let’s not even get started on the time I paid $45 for a fancy manicure, got in my car, and attempted to take my gum out of my mouth with my fingers and peeling off half the nail polish before it even got a chance to properly dry.
I have a really gross version of this happen to me. When I was at university one day I puked up everywhere. I felt fine after so I changed my clothes and went off to my lecture. It wasn’t until after the lecture that I realised… that I had vomit in my hair!!! It wasn’t noticeable if you looked at my hair, it had done a good job of hiding itself. But I’m pretty sure it smelt…
Whenever I wear my favorite blue baseball cap in public, I am mistaken for a man.
This does not make me feel pretty.
But I sure love that hat.
Yep, I’m a walking disaster when it comes to fashion but I’ve got my husband mostly trained to visually inspect my makeup before I leave the premises. It’s funny though that even when we get away with these oopsies, we still feel the need to tell someone/everyone! 🙂
Unrolled my yoga towel in class, only to find my hot pink thong stuck to it. I think the dude next to me laughed. Does that count?
Does that count? That pretty much wins the award!
I don’t have a beauty routine anymore, so I don’t really have any embarrassing moments to share in that regard. I have, however, managed to become the person who drops something in my cleavage EVERY SINGLE TIME I eat. Nothing sexier than digging macaroni salad out of your bra, let me tell you. My husband & I have resorted to the joke that it’s not a meal until I drop food in my bra.
That beats my story, as I always drop food on myself as well. However, given the less-than ample nature of my cleavage, it flies right through.
I swear, every year that goes by I lose a little of my beauty routine…maybe it’s just age and my realization that I simply don’t have the time to primp throughout the day.
Luckily, I’m a leo so I rarely walk out of the house without checking like a thousand mirrors and I can’t even think of a blunder to confess to.
I usually refuse to spend more than about 10 minutes getting ready for my day beauty-wise. When I go out, I go all out though. I practically look like two different people because of it. But seriously, I’m not about to get all dolled up for the people I work with. What’s the point? I work there….the last thing I need is for my co-workers to start checking me out.
New follower – came here through your comment on The Bloggess’s post and so far, love your writing! You’ll be sure to hear more from me in the coming weeks 🙂