Covering Up
This past weekend, I had two occasions which required covering up a past mistake.
This mistake was definitely an "if I knew then what I know now" kind of mistake. It was the kind of mistake that illicited scorn - harsh, yelling, cursing scorn - from my father right before I did it, yet I did it anyway (and that may be one of the reasons why I continued on the path of stupidity). It was one of the mistakes that people make in their 30s and call "temporary insanity", and, most regrettably, the kind of mistake that stays with you forever.
But I covered it up this mistake because I am resourceful andalso because I got to know MAC Cosmetics very well when they were a Catering client of mine.
The three little daisies tattooed on the inside of my right ankle was invisible at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night. That mistake I feel that everyone sees first on me and judges me about immediately wasn't visible at all as I walked down the aisle as a happy, supportive bridesmaid - the only bridesmaid in her 30s - and with probably the longest list of mistakes, simply because age dictates many things.
But tonight, after all of the wedding festivites are over - my brother in law and new sister in law are on a plane to their tropical honeymoon destination - I feel that age, if we are lucky, dictates wisdom.
I got used to not seeing that *** *** tattoo on my ankle. I love my pre-tattoo ankle. It's blank, it's nude, it's almost adolescent. That ankle, for 48 hours under good, heavy concealer, looked like it didn't have any mistakes yet. This morning when I woke up and had slept with the concealer on, the three daisies tattoo was more visible again, but not completely. The concealer was kind of orange-y. The tattoo looked worse half-concealed than invisible or not hiding at all.
Let's see; blank ankle, half-concealed tattoo ankle, or unhidden tattooed ankle that the world can see, for better or worse? I've tried them all now.
A tattoo of three little daisies. Like three little birds, or three little...kids. It is what it is. Mistake or proof of life? Flower or scientific name? Regret or moving on?
I won't say I'll never cover it up again, but I will say, mistakes don't stay concealed very long.
I should know.
This mistake was definitely an "if I knew then what I know now" kind of mistake. It was the kind of mistake that illicited scorn - harsh, yelling, cursing scorn - from my father right before I did it, yet I did it anyway (and that may be one of the reasons why I continued on the path of stupidity). It was one of the mistakes that people make in their 30s and call "temporary insanity", and, most regrettably, the kind of mistake that stays with you forever.
But I covered it up this mistake because I am resourceful andalso because I got to know MAC Cosmetics very well when they were a Catering client of mine.
The three little daisies tattooed on the inside of my right ankle was invisible at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night. That mistake I feel that everyone sees first on me and judges me about immediately wasn't visible at all as I walked down the aisle as a happy, supportive bridesmaid - the only bridesmaid in her 30s - and with probably the longest list of mistakes, simply because age dictates many things.
But tonight, after all of the wedding festivites are over - my brother in law and new sister in law are on a plane to their tropical honeymoon destination - I feel that age, if we are lucky, dictates wisdom.
I got used to not seeing that *** *** tattoo on my ankle. I love my pre-tattoo ankle. It's blank, it's nude, it's almost adolescent. That ankle, for 48 hours under good, heavy concealer, looked like it didn't have any mistakes yet. This morning when I woke up and had slept with the concealer on, the three daisies tattoo was more visible again, but not completely. The concealer was kind of orange-y. The tattoo looked worse half-concealed than invisible or not hiding at all.
Let's see; blank ankle, half-concealed tattoo ankle, or unhidden tattooed ankle that the world can see, for better or worse? I've tried them all now.
A tattoo of three little daisies. Like three little birds, or three little...kids. It is what it is. Mistake or proof of life? Flower or scientific name? Regret or moving on?
I won't say I'll never cover it up again, but I will say, mistakes don't stay concealed very long.
I should know.
