A decade ago in the first month of the second year of this new millennium I was dumped, ditched for a newer less complicated model and became the enemy of the state – a single mother. To cut a long story and so as not to dwell this year my new partner and I decided it was time to get hitched. Time to give ourselves and our children some much needed fun and celebration.
After spending our hols last year in Dorset, three kids and a dog in a caravan in the rain we vowed to get some sun this year. Two hours at Thomas Cook and voila the last week in July in Ibiza booked and wedding booked for two weeks after. Ah well a pre wedding honeymoon with the kids not exactly convention. One of the reasons for my quest for beautification products was the need or rather the pressure to look perfect, beautiful and preened as every bride should be. In the back of my mind in Thomas Cook was the thought “A tan before the wedding now that’s a plan”.
In the days running up to the holiday, sorry honeymoon, my anxiety levels ran high. 10years ago shortly after being dumped, my parents, on the advice of my sons consultant, decided to take us both away for some sun. Plan didn’t quite work as my son had a seizure at 30,000 feet on the outward bound journey and we ended up in a children’s hospital in Munich due to the severity of the seizure and an emergency landing.......but that’s another story. So with the prospect of another flight I was having anxiety attacks. Thankfully all went well, fantastically in fact. We landed uneventfully in Ibiza. I rediscovered the Hippy Market which I’d fallen in love with and vowed to run away to on my last visit there age 11. The kids loved it too and we sat drinking mint tea on cushions soaking up the magical atmosphere.
We returned home tanned and relaxed and ready for the big day. Short bursts of shopping at shiny centre were even possible with my son as long as there was a milk shake at the end of it. To start with I purchased the products for my hair that I know would produce a silky mane but not irritate my increasingly sensitive scalp (due to bleaching the grey I presume). It’s a weird combo but years of trial and error and never ending changes to ranges have resulted in the following; Nizoral shampoo to sooth and calm the scalp and reduce flakes – nice!! Aussie Take the Heat Conditioner followed by a second application of conditioner – Herbal Essences Ignite My Colour. I have always found that two applications of conditioner do wonders. All purchased in Superdrug, much cheaper and more fun than Boots. Then a milkshake, then home.
Next visit we headed for The Body Shop, I have been a loyal shopper there since age 16 when I worked for them over Christmas and fell in love with their products. They have a face cream that’s heavy enough to moisturise this old dry skin and not irritate the hell out of it; their intensive Vitamin E face cream. I can’t say whether it will lift the folds or paper over the cracks but it feels good. The shop was quiet so I managed to grab the make up assistant in a courageous attempt to purchase a lipstick “I need to know what colour lipstick suits me” I could see her thinking “Well if you don’t know by now” but she said she could tell me what colours to avoid so we worked our way around that and got to Delipscious no.6 a light application of not too shiny plum. I walked away feeling triumphant with my first purchase of new make up finally done. Then milkshake, then home.
Then all hell let loose, literally. I watched in stomach churning tear inducing horror as my home town was torn apart and set on fire. Two hours previously I’d driven with my son to Selhurst Park to buy him the new Crystal Palace football strip. We’d driven home with him in tears because they didn’t have the right size socks. We passed shops and houses that we now saw being looted and trashed. I stayed up into the early hours of the next morning talking on Facebook to friends who were closer to the riots than me. One friend’s son who is 15yrs old and has Autistic Spectrum Disorder too was so terrified with all the noise around him that he soiled himself. Another had to hide images of buses burning from her son who loves them more than anything else in his world. And I watched as the youth lost their souls throwing saxophones from a music shop only to be trashed under foot and then smash shop windows with guitars.
With shiny shopping centre in lock down for the next few days and son too anxious to venture even close I had to be content and put all my trust in one lipstick. But I had a tan oh yes. The morning of the wedding came and I spent a little too long watching DIS SOS The Big Build with the kids trying to put off the moment of makeup application. Then I remembered my old friend, 10yrs older to be precise who always said just put it on really thick and spend ages working it in. Out came old faithful gift size make up bag and this time I drifted back to the hours spent before nights out loving the whole ritual of it all. Before I knew it I was done. On went the jewellery myself and my step daughter had gleefully bought at the Hippy Market and on went the off the peg dress we’d giggled over in the department store dressing room and VOILA!
And that day I forgot to worry about myself, whether I was pretty or not. The wounds and insecurities of the years went away. I walked down that isle with my son on my arm, new husband ahead, with all that I am and felt proud and joyful and content. Now if I could bottle that I do believe I’d put the makeup industry out of business.
But a little of bit of lippy never hurts and everything looks better when its tanned.
