I am wearing my husband’s underwear today. Not to be sexy, that’s for sure. Is there anything less sexy than worn out, once-white briefs? There are a few old grayish pairs that don’t fit him anymore and sometimes when we are at the last of the clean laundry pile*, I will wear them. They are actually pretty comfy, and when I wear them I am always struck anew at how comfort and glamour rarely seem to coexist.
I try to add more glamour to my everyday life but usually settle for comfort and a handy excuse. Sure a silk nightgown is very glamorous, but this old college shirt is just way more my speed for lounging around with a cup of Lemon Zinger. But here’s the thing about glamour, it slithers up your body and gets tangled around your neck in the night leaving you cold and claustrophobic. Or maybe that’s just silk nightgowns. Right, the thing about glamour is that it is mostly in the perception, not in the action. I wonder if anyone really feels glamorous consistently. I am sure it is easy to feel on top of the world on your wedding day, at the Oscars, or the morning after you pay someone to clean your house, but day to day glamour is kind of an oxymoron.
Life is about the dirty work, the nitty gritty, the daily grind. There is certainly a sense of completion and satisfaction when you find the exact right shade of lipstick, but it is a different from the satisfaction you feel when you have blisters on your hands from planting a new flower bed. (Although, now that I am thinking about it, planting a flower bed isn’t exactly life changing. Can you get blisters from serving soup at a homeless shelter or something?) I was just trying to remember a type of physical labor that I had actually done.
I have stopped striving for glamour or the happily ever after. Real life is messy and hard and many times spectacularly unsatisfying, even more so when we have idealistic expectations. I am trying to be satisfied with the right shade of lipstick and the fancy feeling I have when I take time to put it on.
*That’s right, even our clean laundry is in a pile. At this point I am just glad that is clean.