Wondering what I mean? Well, liken it to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity – no less important, just on a beauty scale.
My friend and fitness instructor, whom is affectionately known as “Wojo,” comes up with some classic lines. For that I am grateful, because it distracts me from the searing pain in my thighs after umpteen squats and lunges.
Today’s gem from Wojo: “I have a theory,” she said with a chuckle (unable to humor her with a response as I am purple with exertion and would surely puke if I tried to speak), she continued, “that the amount of time it takes a woman to get presentable in the morning, in minutes, is equal to her age, in years”.
Oh, sweet Jesus. She is right! Why no one has ever realized this before is beyond me.
When I was 10, I’d brush my teeth (maybe), get dressed and off I’d go.
At 20, I’d fluff my hair with my hands, swipe on some lip-gloss and ponder which of my many cute outfits to wear, any of which would look fab.
At 30, I had to take into consideration my purpose for getting ready. Was it for work? Then I needed to dress the part. My hair needed to be coiffed just right; my skirt not too short; my shoes needed to say ‘confident’ and yet be comfortable.
At 40, fresh out of my ‘good divorce’, getting ready was now an algebraic equation. The desired outcome was to look beautiful (of course) but add in the consideration that I didn’t want to look half my age, divided by the fact that most women my age dressed half theirs. Majority of the time I ended up with a factor of ‘oh, f*&k it.’
Now, some umpteen years later, I don’t even recognize myself in the morning. Even if I’m going sans makeup, it takes many more than a few minutes to get me looking remotely human. I need a mini-facial to iron out the sheet creases and under-eye bags. As for my hair? The style du jour depends on which is worse, the state of my roots or the extent of my bed head. The only pair of workout pants that I feel remotely sassy in, is likely to be in the wash or missing in action. I still need time for coffee; else I will conk out halfway through class AND get a caffeine headache. I’m exhausted before I even leave the house.
The good news is, working out always leaves me with more energy, a pink glow to my skin and a sparkle in my eye. The better news is, the older I get, the less concerned I am about how I look, or how long it took to get there.
And the best news yet?
Whether I subscribe to Wojo’s theory on a given day or not, my inner self needs less and less maintenance as the years go by. This “happiness quotient” takes up the slack I may need on a day that I am too rushed for my required 47 minutes of prep time. That and some cool shades can hide a world of uglies.
If you’ve got the time for Wojo’s theory, then by all means, take it. However, at the end of the day, remember that happy and healthy always look good, and miserable just looks… well… miserable.
Dr. Tania was formally educated as a chiropractor before she founded her practice in Annapolis, Maryland where she specialized in perinatal and pediatric chiropractic for over twenty years. Her mission now is to take her knowledge to the masses, teaching one-to-many with her blog, hoping to deliver health, wellness, and lifestyle advice in a ‘get real’ kind of way. For daily updates, follow along at Facebook.com/askdrtania.