Red is the New Black

I have always thought it takes a strong woman to pull off red lipstick. And that woman has never been me. Sure, I have a tendency towards red shoes. But when it comes to a bold statement in fashion or other personal presentation I have fallen very short of such bravery.

But when a woman spends two months in practical seclusion, suddenly a stranger to the fun life of fine dining and nightspots, gains and loses 30 pounds, and becomes personal chef to an infant, she falls even further from being able to express her femininity. After all, its hard to feel pretty when you can't fit back into your favorite skinny jeans. Or when you cut short your daily beauty routine to nurse on the couch. Blow-dry and straight-iron? Are you kidding me?

But during one feeding session, the shampoo commercial depicting a harried mother caught my eye. It stated that 89% of mothers admitting to letting themselves go. My husband looked over at me, took in my current disarray of sloppy hair, unmade face, and wide-open wrinkled shirt, and laughed. I laughed with him, but that sealed the deal.

Friday I walked into my salon and gave Nicole, my goddess with scissors, a serious order. With precision she removed my soccer-mom blonde shaggy 'do. Three hours later, a woman getting that same soccer-mom style was admiring Nicole's work. "When she came in here, she was a blonde," replied my stylist.

"NO WAY," gaped Mrs. Partial-Foil Soccer Mom.

So, I am very sorry not to share a picture of my new look, but I can only describe it as very very red. As soon as I can get someone to take my picture, you will see true fashion bravery...