I Enjoy Being A Girl

I was inspired by Carolyn's post on fashion, and by the delightful hour just spent with my sister..

Charity wandered into the bathroom, which is a principle meeting-place for the girls of the family. We seem to only really see one another over the mirror, morning and evening. Meals count, of course, but those are devoted to general conversation; the Girls' Bathroom is sacred unto girl talk.

This is Charity's first Singles Meeting. She's understandably nervous.

What am I gonna do with my hair, Christy?
"Oh! You should let me put it up for you!"
She looked apprehensive. "Up?"
"Up!"
"I was going to blowdry it." The hair in question is short and thick, and much sunnier than mine.
"No you weren't; you were going to let me put it up." I teased, taking the positive approach. She bit her lip and gave me one of those sideways looks--green eyes are somehow just right for such glances. I grinned at her, knowing that she is perfectly capable of turning me down.
"All right."
"Yay!"

Pink shirt. Bangs clipped up in multiple twists, the back tightly coiled. I slipped in a few pearly pins for effect, and handed her my little silver hand-mirror so that she could look at it. "Lovely! You should grow your hair out, Darling."
"No one can do this sort of thing on themselves, Tisy."
"I do it on myself all the time."
She gave me the sort of look which signifies that I don't count, and began to fiddle with makeup. "Can I wear lavender eyeshadow with a pink shirt?"
"Certainly. The law stating that eyeshadow has to match clothing has been abolished."
"But does it work?"
"Yes," I assured her solemnly, "It does."

Soon it was my turn to ask for opinions. "Dear, which necklace?"
"What are you wearing?"
I gestured vaguely at the bed. "White oxford. Jeans."
"Hmmm..." Charity is an art major, so she began to talk about geometric designs and the need to fill spaces, which didn't make much sense to me. I nodded and tried to look intelligent.
"Forget the earrings!" She said, finally. "Just wear your hair down!"
I, knowing a piece of good advice when I hear it, did so. Sort of.

Perfume, nail polish, etc. "Do you like this scent, Churdee?"
"It reminds me of Mama's perfume."
"Yes," I sighed, happy.

Finished, Charity and I smiled at each other in the mirror. We didn't exchange compliments--what need? Mama has a maxim: "Look your best, then walk out the door and forget how you look."

I went back to my book. Charity donned an apron and returned to her cooking. In a little while we will probably make time to pray for the meeting. And we'll go, but we won't be thinking--God giving grace--about how we look. That's not the point of a meeting. Worship is the point of a meeting. But the point of dressing together is an opportunity to enjoy beauty and girlhood together, to play and build our friendship over vivid colors and little brushes and pins and all the paraphenalia of a woman's dressing-table.

I can't say that I really like the fuss of dressing up. It's often more of a nuisance than anything else, especially if you have an eight AM class. Yet I have found, to my astonishment, that it can be a real chance to serve another girl, build a memory, and deepen a friendship. I still have fond recollections of "dress-up nights" with Amanda and Maggie and the High Queen, or with Carolyn. What delight I had in doing Kaylyn and Emily C.'s hair for the Liberty Ball! It was sort of the same thing as taking out goblets up to dinner. That bit of vivid glass at the table could make a meal special, a way of celebrating. For, you know, a life lived in Christ is a thing which calls for constant celebration, thanksgiving, and enjoyment.

Go figure. I used to despise with my whole heart everything that smacked of "girliness," and now I find that after all it is a way of loving and of living in gladness. And now...

I enjoy being a girl.