Heyyy… Pretty ladies

When I was in high school, I was amazed at how some of my classmates managed to come to school with beautiful hair every day. They used a special comb (Hair Doctor) to make it shiny. They wore cute clips and accessories on their hair. And I was so jealous that they can always wear their long, straight hair down. Meanwhile I comb my hair only twice a day—once after I take a bath, and when I put it up in a ponytail.

Girls wore A-line skirts in our high school. But this style was not deemed fashionable by some of the pretty ladies because it failed to highlight their blossoming bodies, so they had it altered it to a pencil skirt to hug their curves. I couldn’t have cared less about the cut of my skirt because I was more worried about my shoes. I thought none of the black leather girls’ shoes looked good on me, so I ended up buying work shoes instead. I loved those shoes. They were so comfy and durable, albeit a little heavy. I still think it was one of the coolest things that I owned.

Imagine this pair worn with a white, long-sleeved shirt and black-and-white checkered, A-line skirt. I’m a fashion maven.

Before we were dismissed from class, our teacher would usually instruct us to fix ourselves before going home. The pretty girls would promptly take out their pressed powders and different-flavored ChapSticks to touch up their beautiful faces. In the meantime, I would just wipe my face with a handkerchief and put petroleum jelly on my lips, making it look like I just finished eating lechon because of its sheen. This situation did not improve when I was in college either. I just went from a plain-looking girl in school uniform to a plain-looking girl in jeans and t-shirt. But I want to think that I look and dress better now compared to my 15-year-old self. I know how to put makeup. I can wear high heels and dresses. My hair is still awful though, but I’ve come to terms with that.

My friend told me that she never would’ve thought I had it in me to be a “girly-girl”. I’m just as surprised as anyone else. And despite the better facade, I’m still pretty much my 15-year-old self. There will always be a part of me that is insecure when I’m with my pretty high school classmates. These ladies exude confidence that stemmed from hearing people say they’re pretty when they were growing up, and I’ll never have that. And when people tell me now that I’m pretty or sexy, I feel like it’s diminished by the fact that I have to work hard to be pretty. I feel like I’m not being complimented as a beautiful person, but I’m being complimented on putting in effort to be beautiful.

I guess that’s why I love makeovers so much. Even though you may not feel confident in your own skin, you can still fake it. And if you keep faking it, at some point, you’ll believe it and you won’t have to fake it anymore. At least that’s what I’m hoping for. I’ll get back to you on this.


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