parallels

I haven't worn heels since I arrived in Chicago over two months ago.

I've never been an overly willing heel-wearer because I don't like the click-click they make when I walk, I don't like blisters, being topply tall, or getting them stuck in the cracks of sidewalks. I would wear them in college occasionally when I was going out (usually accompanied by makeup) or when I wanted to look professional and commanding. Having a boyfriend eliminates the need to go all out when I do go out, and I don't have too many girlfriends to go out with solo yet. So I stick to my flats.

I haven't worn makeup since I arrived in Chicago over two months ago.

I've never been an overly willing makeup-wearer because I don't like the way it feels when I sweat, I don't want to become dependent, it takes entirely too much time, and I really don't know what to do with it. I would wear it in college occasionally when I was going out (usually accompanied by high heels) or when I wanted to look professional and commanding or just change my appearance. Having a boyfriend eliminates the need to go all out when I do go out, and I don't have too many girlfriends to go out with solo yet. So I stick to my face.

Today I wore both these things. I tottered around in a full suit, heels, straightened hair, and makeup feeling like a little girl in dress-up clothes and makeup, smearing colors all over her face (thinking it looked pretty, of course). I suppose to the innocent observer I looked like just another business person, like all those that frequent the Loop each business day. I felt ridiculous.

Ridiculousness compounded by the fact that I overcompensated for how long it would take to get from my northwest apartment alllllll the way southeast into the Loop. I was wandering around for a half hour, purposeless, before my interview, wishing it was okay to sit down in the middle of the sidewalk. Then I realized my professional appearance was somewhat mauled by the bleeding blister that had formed on my left heel (again, from the heels). I scratched my eye, only to find a scar of black eyeliner left of my finger.

My interview went fine, thanks.