Yesterday’s post got me thinking.
Just last week I heard an eighty-five year-old lady say, “When I get to the point that I can’t do my hair and make-up . . . that’s when I will no longer leave the house!”
Really? It’s that important . . . ? Should it be? Well . . . what should be and what is . . . we know there is a huge gap between those. What’s creating the gap? Is it pride? Vanity? Misplaced priorities? (Remember: I just ask the questions; I don’t provide answers.)
Would I be different? I? The one who is happy about the mail slot in the front door, not because of inclement weather or convenience when out of town but because she does not have to put on make-up to go to the mailbox! Really?!
I suggested the possibility of permanent make-up. Actually I had thought of that on another occasion. I had seen an elderly lady in Wal-Mart who obviously could not see very well. I am sorry to say that she looked clownish because of her heavy eyebrows and rouge and lipstick, all of which had been applied in such a manner that she looked like a character from a Bette Davis/Joan Crawford movie (think Baby Jane). Rather than being amused, however, I had felt a surge of sympathy/empathy (possibly due to my own recent milestone birthday).
In the same vein as the eyebrow waxing episode, during which I discovered just how gray they had become, I became aware of just how vain I can sometimes be. When does it end? The vanity. Does it ever? How is it that some women can be so content with their natural, God-given features and others (myself included of course) feel the need for constant enhancement?
If I have the privilege of living to be eighty-five, will I refuse to leave the house if I can’t properly apply my make-up? I hate to think so, but who knows? I know that ideally I would just be thankful to be able to leave the house, with or without make-up, but given my inability to consistently live up to ideals thus far, who knows? It’s something to think about.
If I were to get permanent make-up, it would be eyeliner and eyebrow color. I think that would suffice. But it would be painful. And expensive. And would it really last? Or would it eventually fade?
God offers us permanent make-up. His cosmetic line consists of “the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit,” as touted by Peter. Unfading beauty. Permanent enhancement. Sounds enticing. But it too is painful. And expensive. It comes with a huge price-tag.
It costs us our vanity.