So I recently realized that with the little (ok, LOT) of extra weight I’ve been carrying around, and my usual Bohemian style, I do not exactly fit the image of the business/fashion savvy Mary Kay Beauty Consultant.

No. That’s a lie.  One of many that I am about to ‘fess up to.  I look nothing like the image of the business/fashion savvy Mary Kay Beauty Consultant.

The second lie I am about to admit to is the one I’ve been telling myself for several years now: “Jules, you rock those scrubs!”  No.  I don’t. If we want to be really honest, it’s a rare woman of my size that CAN rock the scrub look.  Scrubs are to my day job what loungewear is to my home-life.  A comfortable necessity.

The third lie: I have good decent taste in clothes. Wrong. Regarding clothing styles, all of my taste is in my mouth.

Case in point:  I asked my friend, Marty, who is also my Mary Kay Director (and yes, she was my friend before she was my director) last week if she might want to go shopping with me to see if I couldn’t find a decent suit to start wearing to meetings, functions, and skin care classes.  She was tickled, and immediately said she would come with me, so we set a date, and went out this evening to see if we couldn’t do a little retail damage.

Now, here’s the thing about Mary Kay & me. I wasn’t going to do this again. (Lie.)  And if I did do it, I was only going to use the training to integrate color into my studio and be an own-use consultant. (Lie.)  Oh, and I certainly was NOT going to put the product onto faces. (Lie.) Yes, I am aware that I probably should wear a skirt, but I have skirts and they will be fine, but I’m SO not wearing heels. (Lie and lie.)  Furthermore, I was not going to advance in the company, had no desire to be a team leader, a Director, or drive a company car. (Lie, lie, and, yes, LIE!)

This is how I looked shortly after I signed my consultant agreement.  This photo was taken at Monday Night Live in December, before Christmas (and before the incident with the dog that ran me

Me…at my first Mary Kay function in December. Stop laughing. I can totally hear you.

over).  This is the henna traffic cone hair, pulled up in a twist, with what once were bangs unattractively framing my face and extra chin(s?). Notice the shrug and the Bohemian peasant skirt that I love with all my heart and soul.  What you can’t see are the grey faux-suede pirate boots that I also love.  In this picture I am totally tickled because I was actually being recognized (and in the future when you all see this picture you WON’T recognize me) for something fairly important, but I can’t remember what it was, probably because I was in shock from actually being recognized for doing something.  That part is kind of addicting.

Alright, so I digress.

About a month after this picture was taken, I was about sick of my hair, so I sucked it up and called Marty and asked her who did her hair. I have this fine, thin head of hair that goes amuck after it gets to a certain length and I was thinking that it was time for a change, and since  Marty’s hair is fine, too, I thought maybe her lady could hook me up with a new look.  So I called Anna, and made an appointment, had to work late the day of the appointment, so rescheduled for two days later. Ended up with a bug, so rescheduled for the following Saturday, and went.

Y’all…I gotta tell you. Anna is a miracle worker.  I’m going to attach a picture of me the day I got the mop chopped. MUCH better than the before. She even deepened

A cute cut and good color make a big difference. Now what shall we do about that wardrobe?

the red, and I absolutely LOVE it!

I even went so far as to get gel done on my nails because I wanted pretty hands, and then after being places with other women, I started noticing that there was really only one frumpy lady around and that was me.  Hence my call to Marty…I guess it was like an SOS.

We went out tonight. I brought Peri with us, because she’s always kind of been the voice of reason when it comes to clothing, because unlike me, Peri DOES have fashion sense. So Marty, Peri and I had a quick bite of dinner at our favorite Mongolian grill, and went off to have a little retail therapy.  Now, because I am on a wicked budget, we went to Ross Dress for Less, because Marty said she has always had fairly decent luck there.  Boy, I’ll say.  I know I had my cart piled with at LEAST 20 outfits to try on.  (And I have to admit I was a little sad when Marty wouldn’t let me snag the killer caftan hanging on the OTHER rack across from the professional attire.) And danged if they all didn’t look cute on the rack!  Then we went to shoes. O. M. G.!

Shoes…I have never been a huge shoe person. Give me something comfortable, flat and sensible to wear and I’m happy.  Marty and Peri are down with platforms, and pumps with heels (WHAT????), and ok, I admit, I was curious to try a pair on.  Well I came home with two pair. *shrug*  Who knew? (I’m a handbag junkie.)

So after the shoes, we went to the fitting room, and I ducked in with my first allotted grouping of outfits. Tried on a formal dress marked down to THIRTEEN BUCKS, and I thought it looked HORRIBLE on me.  I walked out, and not only were Marty & Peri giving me thumbs up, the sales girl was, too!  WTH?  Okay….So I tried on a couple dress/jacket combos and got yes to one, meh for a couple others, and then went on to suits.  Oh, heavens.  Each one *I* thought looked good?  Didn’t.  In fact, at one point, I walked out, and in stereo, Marty & Peri said, “NOOOOOO” and to add a three part harmony, the sales girl chimed in, “Oh, no, honey…that looks old on you…”

Long story shorter, I ended up with a dress/jacket combo, the formal dress and two pairs of shoes…really high shoes.  Nosebleed shoes.

We get in line at the check out, and the lady in front of us has a metal chicken that the cashier is bagging up. (Apparently one can get ANYTHING at Ross Dress For Less.) I burst out laughing. Marty & Peri looked at me and all I could get out was one word:  BEYONCE!   Yes, they thought I was nuts and I could not explain the whole metal chicken giggles until the lady left with her little metal chicken.  For those of you who are not familiar, I am attaching a link to the Bloggess’ entry pertaining to Beyonce, the five foot tall metal chicken.  Now, please be advised that Jenny has no filter, so her blogs are not for the faint of heart.

Given that I still don’t have a black pencil skirt or matching jacket, we’ve decided that while in Raleigh tomorrow, between MK parties, Peri and I are going to go to the mall and do a little more shopping.  Marty made Peri promise not to let me leave with hippie skirts, moo-moos, or anything else in my usual wardrobe choices.  Damn, but change is hard, y’all!

In closing, I am going to leave you with a picture of the first pair of heels I’ve owned in YEARS (btw, I believe those are FOUR inch heels).  Enjoy.  Well, that, and pray I don’t break my fool neck getting around in these bad boys. I hate shopping….except that I am going back to Ross to see if I can’t go find my own little metal chicken…cuz it really was cool!

Here’s to not falling and breaking something. Cheers!