Monday, July 03, 2006

Ma Clouthier Gets Made Over: A Good Texas Woman is Hard To Find

Lot's of excitement for ole Ma Clouthier, here. For the first time in 18 months my nails are done and I got a pedicure. For good measure, I got my hair cut, too.

The lack of feminine habits for the last year and one half have been practical. Call me crazy, but I don't like baby poop under my nails or on my nails. Frankly, I just don't like baby poop period and would probably have more babies if poop weren't a bi-product. Since it is, I keep the nails short and wash my hands like a germaphobe obsessive compulsive.

Today I have well-manicured, white-tipped nails that now click when I type. This is annoying. This is the unfortunate side-affect of at least attempting to be a good Texas woman. Why do I even try? I wait until the last possible minute when the finger nails are about to fall off. Even with my hair done, my make-up on and nails and toes polished to perfection, my wardrobe is .... Let's see, how can I put this charitably?

I'm thinking.........

Okay, there is no charitable way to describe my fashion unconscious ways. They include comfort shoes with everything--including church dresses. What can I say? I'm a paradox wrapped in an unflattering conundrum.

Why bother with the superficialities when the foundation is cracking at the seams?

I'm thinking...........

Holy crap! I'm having a Texas Woman existential crisis! I think I just wasted nearly $300 for nothing. Nice hands and feet? Well-done, blonde bouffant? They do look incongruous with Birkenstocks, Jean shorts with the ample ass filling them and plain T-shirt. In short, style and comfort (and tank ass) do not mix. No, they surely do not.

Here's what Manolo says about people like me:

Dear Manolo,

Can you please recommend some stylish comfort shoes for me?

Audrey

Manolo says, ayyyyy! Few things in the language of the English can inspire such cold dark horror in the breast of the Manolo as the phrase “the comfort shoes.”

More atrocities have been committed, by the comfort shoes than all of the Mongol hordes, the oil tankers, and the chainsaws combined.

It is the truism of the Manolo that the word “comfort” allows the shoe companies to believe that they can foist upon the peoples the most hideous sort of the shoes; shoes that appear to be constructed out of the rubberized burlap and dried dung, shoes that would not have been tolerated by our cave-dwelling ancestors.

This it is not to say that the comfort and style are incompatible, indeed they are not.

But rather it is to note that those shoe companies who market only based upon the comfort are, to the mind of the Manolo, equal to the Big Tobacco in the damage they are doing to the tender and gullible soul of this nation.

If you wish to see the shoe that is stylish and comfortable, but emphatically not the “comfort shoes” then the Manolo would present to you the Physical by the Stuart Weitzman; simple, atrtractive, classical, and designed to be worn on almost any occasion.

Physical by Stuart Weitzman    Manolo Likes!  Click!
Perhaps it's my irrepressible optimism that keeps me putting band-aids on flesh wounds. While I'm hemmorhaging style, I gamely smack very expensive band-aids everywhere. Perhaps, I must just acknowledge who and what I am:

I'm a Midwesterner. I'm a former Michigander. I know that it's unfathomable in Texas or Long Island or Southern California, but we Michigan girls did not give a rootin' toot about these high maintenance ways. Hair cuts, maybe. Manicures, pedicures and big hair, big boobs and tight skin? Why bother?

Really, it's true. Right ladies? You know who you are out there. My beloved Michigan friends and relatives: Chris, Sharon, Roxanne, Rita..... Was it just the compnay I kept? (Athletic, active, smart ladies, all.) Or is the trend I remember still true?

'Cause deep in this Texan's heart, I just don't have then energy or inclination to care all that much. Dang! Existential crisis resolved. I'm a Texas girl with Michigan roots. And man, are they ever dark.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

man would i love to suck your toes though

Anonymous said...

We are hard working, salt of the earth types no matter what state we end up in. Tx is lucky to have you!!

vj said...

And you say you are the least funniest person you know. I would have to disagree with that statement. You amuse the heck out of me sometimes! I can totally relate to this post! :-) Though not from Michigan but rather from Germany, I've been snubbed more then once because I don't keep up with name brands, do my own fingernails, toenails, etc... I do the best I can with what I have. Do you like having those tips on your nails? I tried it once and it drove me nuts. Oh, and I happen to really love my red Birkenstock shoes...they are so comfortable and makes so much sense for a back that is sensitive.

I received a gift from one of the parents at school to "Bella Rinova" on Market Street. It's for the whole treatment including wine. Well, it's still sitting here and have wondered who I can give this to. Perhaps I should just do it myself after all.

Have a wonderful 4th of July and enjoy that clicking noise while typing your heart out! :-)
vj

Anonymous said...

Ooooohhhh, you have truly pained me this time. I must offer an opposing opinion on this. I grew up in Michigan, too, and quite close to you Dr. M (the bottom bunk). While I'm no fake-nail addict (I hate them, in fact), I do regularly do the hair and feet thing. And have managed to live a happy, healthy adult life without donning the cork-bedded torture sandals called "Birkenstocks". I'm glad to hear your head, hands and feet have had a recent revival. In the business world we have a ridiculous saying about making decisions that involve the "head, heart and hands" - I propose it's equally important and much more visually appealing to focus on the head, hands and feet!

Dr. Melissa said...

Oooooh! Good gracious me!Toe sucking is just vile. My dear anonymous reader, I can assure you that you would not desire to suck my toes. Ewwwww!

Dear Michigan friend, may I reassure your delicate sensibilities? The 18 month diva dirth is O-V-E-R. I will do my best to keep head, shoulders, knees and toes presentable. But please know that for me, this is my gift to the public. It is not really for me. I would prefer to spend 300 big ones on books and a comfy pillow. Perhaps you could send me gift certificates or put money in my tip jar to encourage and reinforce my ladylike behavior? Feel free!

Sharon said...

I'll bite... Michigan was a style vacuum in the 80's when we were teens, or so it was for me. Remember, though, Dr. M...compared to my wardrobe, you were the fashionista! That said, and what you've written, your other readers can only wonder what was in my closet. :) Growing up with no make-up simplified things and kept us "humble." Cutting one's own hair or going to a friend's mom for a haircut also limited style capabilities. (The hubbies really should be thankful for what our parents did to try to create low-maintenance women!) Maybe it was just you and me though...everyone at school seemed to be all about the latest look, never mind that it was three months behind every other place in the country: Big hair, dramatic eye shadow and liner, stylin' clothes (the latest fashions in neon, of course), earrings and shoes to pull together every outfit. No, not all Michigan girls were uninterested in fashion and the high-maintenance image enhancers...it was just us. :)