I will get dressed and then spread my Sephora number 30 just so making sure to add a little more where there are spots of facial hair I wish weren’t there. I follow that with some loose powder from Marcelle which I blot into my skin with a brush. Then comes the black pencil liner snuggling against my eyelashes followed by the wig, the earrings and the lipstick which segue behind in quick succession.
The entire procedure which includes the initial quick shave takes no more than 10 minutes and I am ready to go because it has become so repetitive as to become an art form. I don’t ask myself who I am when I do this but go by rote. It is an exercise the end of which sees me looking at this middle age woman in the mirror who is confidently smiling about who she is.
What seemed extraordinarily abnormal to me in that empty house in my mother’s bathroom all those decades ago is now a daily practice I do happily and cheerfully. Who would have imagined?
Not me that's who.