... does that make vanity the princess of invention? And what about laziness? That surely figures in. Probably the not-talked-about member of the invention family.
I am a firm believer that the eldest child is the inheritor of all the genetic material that needs to be flushed out of the parental units. Things like the pouchy eyes of your German relatives, the tendency to male pattern baldness that knows no gender. Ahem.
During the winter, one of my favorite things are the fleecy sheets on my bed. As the daylight hours dwindle into single numbers, I find myself almost vaulting into those velour-like linens with the same feeling (I imagine) a little mole flees sunlight for the security of his dark little home. Very mole-like, I burrow in. Of course, I don't spend a lot of time sleeping - I am, as a rule, up between 3-3:30 every morning - and I am 'entertained' by a variety of dreams during the shortened night, which have me tossing and turning. All this tossing and turning on my much-loved fleecy pillow case has the effect of putting an immersion blender to my hair. Upon waking, not one strand is lying placidly on my head.
Add to this the combination of hard water, few daylight hours in which to do morning chores and a long daily commute, to make it inconvenient to take the time to shower every morning. I compromise with an every-other-day schedule, which gives me a few mornings during the week where I can actually get to work on time AND do an extra little something - like unload 100# of feed. What an exciting life I lead! (Insert sound of dripping sarcasm)
Needless to say, my challenged morning 'beauty' regime is usually out of my control. Or anyone else's. Vidal Sasson would throw his hands up in surrender. I am thankful to get out the door in matching shoes (or IN shoes), with a top and a bottom that don't clash. I pray that I can get from my car in the building garage and into my office without anyone more stylish catching sight of me. This also has me darting furtively into the ladies room throughout the day. It's a lot of work.
Since January has me all fired-up to purge the excess of my life, I have been rummaging through long-neglected drawers, casting out things that have been moved with me, but never worn, for over 30 years. Egads. Yesterday morning, I did a short foray into the 'lingerie' drawer (using the term very, very loosely, given the state of my BGPs). I plucked out two half slips. Does anyone even wear slips now, half or whole? I feel we've left slips behind and jettisoned into spanx.
(Hang in there - it's all connected)
As I went to dispose of the undergarments, a tiny light bulb went off in my brain. It could have coincided with catching sight of myself in the mirror. A vague recollection emerged of my mother covering her pillow with a satin pillow case (she being the generator of the aforementioned bad hair gene). I quickly slid one slip over each side of my pillow (slip covers - snort!) and this morning I emerged from bed with non-electrified hair. It was almost tame.
I am now on a mission to obtain satiny-type material and make an actual pillow case. It may not help my lack of style, but it sure will keep me from scaring the dogs in the morning.