I was interviewed by a major Tampa news anchor yesterday to discuss my book, Opening the Kimono. Guess what I was most freaked out about: answering her questions intelligently, coming across as engaging, or how my hair would look. Yep, you guessed it.
Contrary to what movies would have us believe, all TV studios are not the same. There were no artsy hair and makeup people scurrying around to make me look beautiful. Any beautification would have to take place in the confines of my own bathroom two hours before the interview. Upon waking at 5:30 in the morning, I said a quiet prayer to myself...
"Dear God, please let today's interview go well. Please help me to say the right words in the right way. Please help me to deliver my message of power and healing to as many people as possible. And for goodness sake, God, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE help me look pretty."
I then got out of bed, stumbled toward the bathroom, and proceeded to check on the first potential landmine: my complexion. Mercifully, the zit I acquired on Thursday evening after eating two minuscule bites of chocolate cake at the fancy shindig hubby and I attended had nearly disappeared. The concealer usage would be a minimum. YAY! Victory Number One.
After having a healthy breakfast, I hopped in the shower. After the suds, shampoo, and shave, I emerged feeling fresh and perky. It was now time for the next challenge: the makeup application process. With a surgeon's precision, I applied my foundation, eye shadows (all three of them), liquid eyeliner, mascara, blush, lip liner, and sassy new mocha lipstick I purchased for just this occasion. (My typical hot pink lipstick was not recommended by the media coaching books I recently devoured.) Happily, I had no cosmetic catastrophes to deal with; no mascara on the lids, no errant eyeliner. Everything looked as if I actually meant to do it. YAY! Victory Number Two.
Next, it was time for the Big Kahuna: taming my lion mane. Some days my hair looks wonderful, and other days it looks like I stuck a finger in a wall socket. I have lots of hair, and it's as curly as all get-out. Depending on the moon cycle and the generosity of the Follicle Fairies, my hair can go from sexy to scary in record time. Yesterday, I towel-dried my hair, noticing that it had the delightful texture of cooperation. After squirting liberal amounts of goop #1 (Redken Ringlet 07) into my hand, I added a ribbon of goop #2 (Redken Glass 01) and mixed them together. Attempting to mimic my hairdresser's amazing techniques, I grabbed, scrunched, and twirled my highlighted locks for several minutes until they looked ready for the final primping. After dispensing a quarter-sized dollop of goop #3 (L'oreal Fluid Intense) into my hands, I finished up the scrunching exercise and was ready for the climax: Hair spray (L'oreal infinium 4). Lots of it. This sh#t needed to keep my hair in place through an hour's drive to Tampa and my inevitable pre-show anxiety attack. After all product was applied, I was ecstatic to see the results: A Good Hair Day. YAY! Victory Number Three.
Finally, I put on The Blouse. This wasn't an ordinary blouse; it's one specifically designed to be TV-friendly. (Thanks, Stein Mart!) It is a jewel-toned, solid, button-down number made of stiff material which can hold a lavaliere mic. (It is nothing I'd actually wear in real life; I'm more of a flowy, patterny, hippy blouse kind of chick.) After donning The Blouse accompanied by my tailored black pants and cute black Liz Claiborne shoes, I eyed myself in the mirror. Lo and behold, I didn't look (or feel) as big as a house! In fact, I went so far as to say I felt...dare I say it?...PRETTY. YAY! Victory Number Four.
I was officially ready for the trek to Tampa.
As far as the interview itself went, I think I did pretty well. Honestly, I can't remember most of what I said, except I do remember mentioning my sex life with my husband. (Won't he be thrilled to see that on the news?) My publicist assures me that I rocked it, calling me inspiring and having great energy. Who knows? We'll see when the thing actually airs. It's one of those opportunities for me to trust that I did well instead of automatically assuming that I sucked ass. Unfortunately, self-judgment is a hard habit to break.
One thing is for sure: God answered my prayers yesterday morning and gave me the Little Big Things I so desperately needed.
For your consideration and/or comment:
What Little Big Things (hair, skin, clothes, makeup) help you feel the most attractive?
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