Try It, You’ll Like It

On an autism website, I came across a chart of frequent traits of women on the autism spectrum.  One of them is “will not spend much time on grooming”.  Well, that explains my “wash and wear” hairstyle.  My hair is so short that I spend more time brushing my teeth than my hair.  My short hair-do frees me of the sound of a blow dryer or the touch of a curling iron.  I have no need for scalp-annoying hair clips, bows, or headbands.

Another similar trait is “dresses comfortably due to sensory issues and practicality”.  Oh, my goodness, that explains my sweat suits being in the front of my closet and a few outfits in the back.  The dressy outfits seldom see the light of day.  I dress for comfort due to sensory issues.  Well, that and my budget.

Now I also understand why I never seriously experimented with makeup. Since I’m bad about rubbing my eyes and face, the makeup never stays on for very long anyway.  The smell of perfume is not nose-friendly.  Therefore, my face has the “natural” look, or in other words, no cover-up.

That may be about to change thanks to my 7-year-old grandniece.  Don’t think that the young ones can’t teach us older ones a new trick or two.

She and her 3-year-old brother were visiting on a Sunday afternoon.  They like to play in my room because of my gadget collection of computers and tablets.  My grandnephew is more into playing with one of my tablets because he likes to play video games.  My grandniece, on the other hand, likes to draw pictures or play make-up.  That afternoon she borrowed her great grandmother’s make-up supply and wanted me as her guinea pig.

I told her that her Great Aunt Sashi (my nickname) wasn’t into make-up.  I’m glad she didn’t say something like, “I can see that, Sashi.”  Instead, she said, “Try it.  You’ll like it.”  Well, I am bad about NOT saying “no” to her and her brother.  So I gave in to getting myself dolled up.

She gave me the full treatment.  My face got the cover-up, my cheeks got blushed, and my eyelids got some color.  She polished my fingers and my toes.  She did such a good job that Great Grandma wanted her nails polished too.

It didn’t take long for my face to go back to its natural color since rubbing my face is a constant habit.  However, I’m getting used to my painted fingernails.  With my nails being painted, I have a reminder not to bite them.  My nails are getting long enough that I might have to find out where I last left my nail file.

I could get used to it provided I can work “painting my nails” into my all-important seldom-changing routine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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