I had a conversation with a friend yesterday. We were joking around about some trivial shit when I mentioned that I will probably at some point in the future invest in a little bit of Botox or boob implants or both. He was surprised, probably even shocked at how superficial I had exposed myself to be. But honestly, it’s not that simple. It’s not even that I am unhappy with the way I look. I actually feel about a million times better than I did in my early twenties, I feel more attractive, I feel more vibrant, all in all age is treating me well ( at least in terms of looks, I’m not talking about work or relationships or life, or money. So basically like Berlin: arm aber sexy, lol. (This by the way is a scam, I have never seen a city unsexier than Berlin)). The thing is though, that I know that I will not always look the way that I look now. And that is of course okay because it is natural and because I am more than just my looks BUT the problem is that I also know how my life is when I look good as opposed to when I do not. And I honestly prefer my life when I look good. Now usually when I talk about this to guys that are into me, they will exclaim something like „you never look bad!“ but that is obviously nonsense. Give me two weeks of not washing my hair, two months of living in Berlin and voila, I look like an alcoholic deprived of sunshine, which would be the truth. I was once turned away by a guy who thought I was begging („no, sorry, thanks!“) when I was in fact just trying to ask for directions (true story).
But that is of course an extreme. A less extreme scenario and far more common is the way I get treated on a market day on a good-looking day as opposed to a bad-looking day (now you can always put these terms „good“ and „bad“ in inverted commas in your head, because of course it’s „all in the eye of the beholder“ blablaba, but we all know what I am saying!). The difference in how I get treated is striking! On a good day, visiting Maybachufer market is a joy, I will leave with a bag full of fruit and vegetables and a hand full of compliments and many how are yous and discounts here and an olive to taste there and very quick and friendly assistance when pressing past hundreds of other hands to buy a bag of grapes. To juxtapose: on a bad-looking day I will be asked not to touch the avocados. „But how am I supposed to know which ones are good??“. „They are good, just take, don’t touch“. WTF. That’s the whole point of a market innit, touching the avocados? Not groping of course, that’s just disrespectful. But touching? feeling? smelling? Nope! Sorry. Not today!
I was forced to buy a new laptop some weeks ago. Now my ex-boyfriend was growing increasinly annoyed at me for asking questions like „what’s a RAM?“ so I decided to take things into my own hands and go to Mediamarkt to get advised on what laptop I should buy (later online). But going to Mediamarkt for advice is not as simple as it sounds. It’s winter, people are grumpy and low on Vitamin D and I had been there two weeks prior to buy a powerbank for a vacation I was going on. That day I had had an ugly day. I went into the shop and asked one of the guys where the powerbanks are. He pointed me in a general direction. I asked him if he could help me figuring out which one I should buy and his response was: „They are over there. You can read the description on the back“. I was shocked at his rudeness. But then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a window and I understood. So this time around I was not going to take any chances. Make up (including foundation as it is apparently very important to guys that the face is the same colour all over), lipstick, heels, tight pants, cleavage. I went to the notebook aisle and I was not disappointed. I spent 40 minutes asking questions that two Mitarbeiter attending to me did not tire answering. „sorry, can you just explain that again, I’m not even sure, is a megabyte bigger or the gigab….“ A smile in response. More than happy to help. In the end I didn’t even have to come up with an excuse as to why I wasn’t going to buy the laptop he highly recommended in the shop because he said: „honestly, get that one, but order it somewhere else online, it will be much cheaper“.
So all I am saying is that I am keeping a bit of botox and a bit of a boobjob as an option in the back of my head. Because in all honesty I am just terrified that one day no matter how much makeup I apply I will be sent to the notebook section to look at laptops and figure out the difference between mega and gigabytes all by myself.