BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

Every woman, when she's dressing, faces the dilemma of two competing objectives. Should she dress to elicit sympathy? Or should she dress to intimidate other women? Should she knock 'em dead or appear near death?

The middle way is the path of cowards. The nondescript namby-pambies who haunt department store isles in search of denim jumpers and wool-blend slacks. Content to be normal, they're the kind of women who make meat loaf and change the sheets at least once a month. Automatons in elastic-waist jeans, they're afraid to take a stand.

It takes a real woman to wear pink go-go boots with a shiny white Spandex cat-suit. A woman who blossoms under pressure, if you know what I mean. The trendsetter, the mod bod, the fashion plate. She's accustomed to being stared at, singled out, and picked up by the cops.

Beauty is power. A face that can launch a thousand ships is like a runaway 18 wheeler loaded with TNT. I often ask myself--why are people so frightened of a pretty face? Raving beauties the world over tell tales of being forced to wear sacks over their heads. Don't let ugly women push you around.

Don't hide your fashion sense under a bushel. Shock! Surprise! Stupefy! No need to stand around all day in a mile long Beanie Baby line. By showing up in a sequin bustier and stiletto heels, you can whisk past all those frumpy women in tennis shoes and claim your prize.

Show no mercy at soirees and tea parties. Terrorize other women with your false eyelashes and push-up bra and you'll intimidate them into leaving the luncheon. Then you can eat the rest of the petit fours!

Wear a leopard print bikini to the pep rally and the next thing you know, the FFA has elected you to ride on their float in the annual Turnip Day parade. All the free Skoal you can dip!

Dolled up in leather biker pants at the debutante ball, you'll be the one Prince Charming gators with. You will live happily ever after in your Marilyn Monroe underwear, unlike your dowdy girlfriends with their knee-highs and navy blue blazers.

Unfortunately, it's not always possible to look great or even good. When it's a borderline situation--you're sporting a brand new bee-hive but you haven't had your mustache waxed in weeks-- it's usually better to go for the pathetic look. A perfectly acceptable way to get attention, when you're not feeling up to snuff, is to wear an outfit that clashes so people will feel sorry for you. Especially if you are suffering from a condition--such as a wart or a broken leg--which makes it virtually impossible to look hot.

Next time you go to a PTA meeting, borrow the faded green stretch pants your mother wears when she works in the yard. A New Kids on the Block t-shirt and a gas station gimme' cap will complete the look. Before you know it, total strangers will be dropping off casseroles.

You and thousands of others are caught in a hailstorm at a spring festival. You think you broke a fingernail and want to see a doctor--but so do scores of other people. You hurry to the children's area and smear red paint on your grungy old tank top. You are the first one picked up by Careflight. Mission accomplished!

Your Great Dane throws up (two chilli dogs and a run-over frog) on the rodent isle at your local pet store. You'll vomit too if you have to clean it up. You drop to the floor in your dirty bathrobe, shouting, "My leg, my leg. Your slick floor made me break my leg. And, look! Now my dog has thrown up." A teenaged boy will get the job of cleaning up Duke's mess and you'll get lots of calls from personal injury lawyers. The one you pick will advise you to look extra pitiful in court.

In conclusion, these are the places you should look fabulous: the bedroom, the boardroom, and any place you're likely to run into your ex and his 20 year old girlfriend.

These are the places you should look pathetic: regional disasters, PTA meetings, rodent isle. And when your mustache shows.