The Art of Being Feminine?

My wedding season is starting a little later this year. Last year, we crammed two weddings into three days during April! Tomorrow, my good friend of twenty-four years is getting married here in Dundalk. I'm very excited to watch her walk down the aisle and will probably shed a tear or two (Yes, I get emotional at weddings!). After the church service, we will take a ten minute drive to the Crowne Plaza for the reception. I'm delighted the couple have chosen this particular place (I've heard very good reports about their wedding receptions), mainly because I don't have the added expense of staying over! I'll be a ten minute drive from home :-)

And now, to my blog title:

For a man reading this, you'll probably stop reading here. This is about the prep *most* women go through on the lead up to any wedding. Feel free to continue, if you're nosey ;-) I suppose there's not really much to it, but it certainly seems a lot to someone like me. I'll explain further down. 

It's easy for a man. They shave, put a suit on and voila, a stud is born! How I wish we had it that easy. Firstly, there is the dress. It usually *can't* be something worn before. Also, what suits a summer wedding, definitely won't suit a winter one. Summer dresses are generally easier, less formal. However, with the way Irish summers are, you could end up needing dressy shawls or even an umbrella! Forecast for tomorrow isn't looking great. I may need an umbrella.

The other thing about a summer dress is the amount of flesh on show. This obviously requires a morning of de-hairing. However one does it, with blades, Veet or wax, it must be done. No bride wants a gorilla at her wedding!

Next, we have the hair (on the head this time). I had mine tidied and re-styled yesterday. It was in dire need of a cut! Lots of women will have their hair done on the morning of the wedding. The bride, in this case, has considerately booked her wedding for late in the afternoon, leaving loads of time for us ladies to prepare. Tomorrow, I'll straighten the long bits and poof out the fringe and hope it lasts the day!

More beauty preparations include the make-up and tan. Being so white I'm almost translucent, I really need the fake stuff. I have booked myself in for a professional spray tan this evening and I'm praying it'll look alright. I had one done for a wedding a few years ago and it looked lovely. Though, three days later I looked like an Oompa Loompa. You can see my lovely tan here. I think I looked quite nice. Usually, in photos with my friends, I look like I could disappear against a white wall!

Finally, the shoes. I'm wearing my Irregular Choice Scottie Dogs. Terribly high heels! I've bought extra gel inserts and hope the don't kill me by the end of the day! Have to wear them or I'll be a foot smaller than everyone around me. Conversation tends to go over my head at that point ;-)

This *art* of being feminine is a pain. I know I don't have to do it, but those photos... They'll be around forever. It's a lot of pressure on women to live up to this coiffed, hairless ideal. Don't get me wrong, I love to dress up now and again and I'm enjoying getting ready for this wedding, but I wonder is it possible to be feminine without it all.

In my teens, I was scruffy beyond belief! My jeans/combats were as baggy as I could get them and I often wore shapeless hoodies. When I became an air hostess at twenty-two, my friends laughed. "Nessa in heels, make-up and a skirt everyday?" Oh, yes, big laugh. But, I did it, for a full year. When I stopped, I didn't wear make-up for a long time! 

Before Beth and my weight loss, I didn't really feel feminine. I only wore skirts on nights out and only if I couldn't find a pair of jeans dressy enough. Now, I wear skirts almost everyday. I spend a little more time on my hair, make-up, clothes. I'll never be as well put together as some of my friends, but my femininity is beginning to show through these last few years. Maybe it is my age or maybe I'm just more aware now of how I look (wrinkles and grey hairs!). Whatever it is, I definitely feel like more of a woman than I did when I was dragging a trolley bag through Stansted Airport at twenty-two!