Me...according to Pink

One day at a Bare Minerals store in the mall:

Me (while looking at 1 million shades of beige mineral foundation)

"What do these do?"

Ms. Minerals 

"That is your warmth and your radiance."

Me (mock confusion)

"Mine?  My warmth and my radiance specifically?"

Ms. Minerals (does not think I'm funny)

"Yes.  And here is your color and glow"

Me (now a smidge frightened by how serious she is)

"You have my warmth, my radiance, my color and my glow?  Seriously, none of those things are registering on my face?  I don't get it, how can this be? "

$250.00 later, I have them all in a shiny black bag. My warmth, my radiance, my pink colored cheeks and my glow.   She had to teach me how to put them back on my face, but thank God I had them back. 

So, I'm a realist, I call it like I see it and I am fully aware that life has faded some of the color and youthful glow from face.  I wasn't really sweating it, but yeah, I've absolutely have days when I peer into the magnifying makeup mirror (standard issue post 40th birthday gear ) expecting to see me and I'm greeted by a puffy, pale, blotchy ...me.  Bigger than life and sporting some wicked dark circles and new facial hair, but it's still me.  

However, I was not prepared to be told by Ms. Minerals at the MALL that I had also lost both my warmth and my radiance.  It was so matter of fact, the way she told me.  Like "Duh.  No one your age has warmth and radiance."  Followed by very clear marching orders.   If I didn't have any other makeup on, I HAVE to make sure to have warmth, radiance and blush.  

I've never worn blush, except when I have a fever.  Then I have a little blush on my cheeks and the whites of my eyes.  So in my world, pink cheeks = sick human being.  

I was surprised by my reaction to the news that basically I was walking around looking like a re-animated corpse, void of any proof of life on my face.  Even though my logical mind was laughing at how the use of these words were playing out when said out loud, my emotional self was kind of hurt. Like she had just revealed a super secret everyone knew about me and I was too stupid to see.  Like all along, I have been high on getting older and believing that the peace and joy and confidence I feel on the inside was being transmitted to the world through my face and all along the ugly truth was that no...it was not.  In fact, all this time warmth, radiance, color...were gone.  Poof! 

And somehow this store in the Sioux Falls mall ends up with every aging woman's goods and sells them back to us.  

"That is your warmth and your radiance."

Well trained consumer that I am, I accept this as truth, hand over my card and breathe a sigh of relief. 

Not two days later I was sitting on a public toilet (like you do) and I look down to see this:

And again I'm at first wildy confused and then instantly horrified.  Why are my pants telling me "I am confident"?  Do I need my waist band to send me daily affirmations?  Is there someone, somewhere, looking at the size of pants and yelling "This one needs a confidence message!"

I'd argue I'm more confident and secure in all aspects of my life than I have ever been.  It is what brings me the peace I thought everyone was seeing on my face.  But something about those pants made the manufacturer anticipate my need for boost of confidence near my zipper.

I don't know.  It feels insulting.  It feels manipulative.  It feels like someone wants me to feel like crap about myself.

Ugh and maybe it feels a little too real.  Maybe I really hate it when someone suggests that the number of my years means something other than that I 'm getting more fabulous each passing day.  If after 40 you start paying for your self esteem and identity, I want more bang for my buck.

You know who totally knows how much I rock and sends me the RIGHT messages for my dollar?

This girl:

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than f*&king perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing, you're f*%king perfect to me

She knows how to motivate this girl.

Where there is desire
There is gonna be a flame
Where there is a flame
Someone's bound to get burned
But just because it burns
Doesn't mean you're gonna die
You've gotta get up and try, and try, and try
Gotta get up and try, and try, and try
You gotta get up and try, and try, and try

She totally knows me. 

So raise your glass if you are wrong
In all the right ways, all my underdogs
We will never be, never be anything but loud
And nitty gritty, dirty little freaks
Won't you come on and come on and
Raise your glass!
Just come on and come on and
Raise your glass!

Knows what's up...

I can't help it, I like to party, it's genetic
It's electrifying wind me up and watch me go
Where she stops nobody knows
A good excuse to be a bad influence on you and you

Most importantly, she knows I'm still a rock star...I've got my rock moves.  

I'll show you my warmth and radiance:

Yeah there it is.  And I'm right...it only radiates more as I get older.  

And for the record...all this was before I purchased my warmth, radiance, color and glow at the mall.  

Boom.