Let's clear one thing up before we get started, shall we?
This isn't a real post. This is a thinly veiled attempt at "blogging" but it is really just a way to get pictures that I really enjoy to people that mean something to me, rather than bored FaceBook browsers...
But I plan to post that I blogged on FaceBook so...
It's a wash.
Bottom line, don't expect much witty blog banter or deep mothering thoughts from this one.
Moving on...
I have recently checked off one of my bucket list items.
Actually, I haven't made a bucket list, but if I were to do such a thing, this would have been on it.
I, modest mouse that I am, gathered my courage and sat for a pinup photo shoot.
I LOVE the 40s and 50s style. One of my new friends in Arizona has often lamented that I was born in the wrong era. After my experience with this photo adventure, I am inclined to agree.
There are a couple things you should know about that were weighing on my mind prior to the event:
1. I am not terribly fond of being photographed. I am inclined to enjoy my appearance as I see it in the mirror, and more days than not feel satisfied with the way I present myself to the world. But somehow, when I look at photos of myself, I look nothing like what I see in the mirror. In a very disappointing way.
2. I, along with most women, fear bathing suits and much prefer fancy wraps and floaty cover-ups when dressing for the beach or pool.
3. I have never worn red lipstick.
It is a very good thing that my brave friend Robyn flew to visit me, expressly for the purpose of a journey back in fashion times. She was a great moral booster and cheered me one while I held endless poses that I'm ashamed to say made my legs shake from exertion. I would have hate to have posed with out a year of Crossfit under my belt!
If given the chance, I will gush about the sitting. Everything was delightful. Thrilling really. I'm warning you, don't give me the chance!
But let's cut to the chase.
The pictures.
Look at the colors!
Look at the lips!
Look at my legs!!
Actually,
when I picked up my prints
I confessed to the photographer
that I had a hard time believing
that she hadn't cut and pasted
somebody else's legs on my torso...
My unfriendly thoughts about
my bottom half have been the slowest to resolve...
But she assured me that with proper posing
anybody can have great legs!
Lesson learned.
But mostly, let's talk about the hair.
That is not my hair. That is a wig.
The wigs were my favorite, favorite part of the whole day (we were there for more than four hours).
First we picked out our outfits. How I ended up in a bathing suit beats me, but I just put it on and didn't want to take it off. (Not even for a stunning mauve party dress. You can expect those pictures when I schedule my next sitting!)
Then make up.
And finally wigs.
The whole thing felt sort of silly until she plopped the first wig on my head. Then it was like I was a whole new person. Like I could change myself with every flip of the wig. It was magic I tell you!
We tried tons... a long red one, a short blond one, curly, straight, all shades of brown...
I loved it so much that I am fairly certain I am going to purchase a wig or two and wear them on a regular basis. Just because the joy of wigs is a secret that should no longer be kept!!
I have a slight confession to make. A few days after the shoot, I had planned to go to bed early, but I started looking at wigs online and I gazed from page to page, review after review, until I got a headache. I think I probably looked at wigs for about three hours that night.
Obsessed.
I am aware.
The only solution is to buy a wig. I know it!
So, if the next time you see me I am no longer sporting my pixie cut, or have suddenly gone Marilyn Monroe blond... you can give me a little wink and we can smugly smile to each other thinking, "Aren't wigs incredible!?"
Actually, you will probably be thinking, "Emily is out of her mind." But I will be happily ignorant of that and strut around confidently in my purchased hair.
I can't wait!
