Jesus H. Christ.

I need to learn how to express myself better.

I just this minute looked at Beth's forum again to see the continuation of "Dress Me Up in Your Love" (or "Beth Gets a Make-Over"). The discussion, up to the point of my bon mot, needed only curlers, pillows, and cottonballs between our toes (and maybe Stockard Channing) to make it a sleep-over. Then there's me:

Oooh, talk of dresses! Droooool. I am not particularly skinny, but I have fairly good proportions except lately with an expanding paunch. I hate my bust, though, and am grateful only that it balances/excuses my tush (maybe only in my imagination). Far worse, Beth, to have a large butt and no bust.
I'm about Beth's height, with a reasonable figure (except that I attempt to disguise my cleavage), and similarly refuse any kind of high-upkeep look (I would read Kim Rollins fascinated and aghast at the time she spent on herself) and to wear uncomfortable shoes. For me, the perfect item of clothing is a long dress with either no waist and a straight but not tight skirt or a drop waist with a looser skirt. Long skirts look good with flat sandals (summer) or boots (winter) or whatever inbetween shoe I can find (rare).
I wish Denver had more interesting (or is it just affordable?) used or vintage or consignment clothing stores. I love the idea of Beth's bedroom being decorated as an artist's interpretation of what a girl's bedroom should look like (something mentioned around when Lucy and Kymm visited, maybe?) with dresses hanging from the mouldings. Also the description of a suit of whitest, palest pink palpitated my heart. But if you can find a good pair of shorts overalls, buy a lifetime supply.
-- LJH, August 20, 1999.

I made a few mistakes here. Most important, no one likes to be discussed as if she's not in the room (especially at a sleepover--remember how Sandy felt), and that's what my mention of Kim Rollins sounds like. Just because she stopped a journal that everyone in their right mind loved doesn't mean she's no longer in the building. Secondly, the adjective "aghast" sounds contemptuous when I meant to connote merely that maintaining a high maintenance look is alien to me. You can probably figure out some others, but I'm not good at admitting my faults to others (except that I freely admit the fault of being unwilling to enumerate my faults to others).

Kim wasn't pleased:

Hey, LJH, sorry to make you sit around slack-jawed at my beauty routines; drool on one's collar doesn't really suit anyone, after all. For the record, I go clothes-shopping a couple times a month [never recreationally, always in quest of a specific item] and spend about ten minutes daily on makeup plus hair, tops. I can't really understand how that would blow your little mind, but whatever. I'm comfortable with the amount of energy I expend on fashion et beaute; it's fun for me, I enjoy decorating myself and treating everything I put on as a sort of costume that filters the way the world sees me. What irritates me is that I'm compelled to live on a planet where I am constantly judged on my looks, but any effort I put into improving my outward appearance is taken as evidence of frivolity, airheadedness, and egoism.
Anyway, so we were talking about clothes. I like jeans that ride on the hip rather than the waist; they look more up-to-the-minute and [I'm talking to you, Beth] since they sort of flatten out anyone's ass, being loose in the vicinity of the cheek, they will also disguise a lack of roundness in that area.
For makeup, I've always favored that '40s starlet look of a matte, even face, little eye detail [mascara alone, and only if you have blonde lashes, as do I] and dark lipstick. It's timeless, easy to maintain [what do those eyeliner chicks do, anyway, use eyedrops all day so that they don't have to blink? that crap ends up all over my face within a half-hour]. A nearly-naked face does look better with a shaped brow, but that only takes a few [painful] minutes every couple of weeks in upkeep. Plucking friends with darker brows than mine are constantly complaining of eyebrow stubble, though.
Lately I've also taken to wearing toenail polish. It doesn't get rapidly chipped away like fingernail polish does, unless you scratch the cats with your toes or something, and I like waking up in the morning with part of myself already "done". I also dig those bra- strap headbands, after I found one at Sephora without any butterflies or rhinestones or shit on it. I wanted something that kept the hair out of my eyes without making me look like I was a 30-year-old woman desperately trying to pass for a coed. Fat headbands look too housefrauesque I think I'm finally too old for twin contour barettes, so if one of the younger set represented here wants to inherit my substantial collection, drop me a line. sigh.
As for hair, try Joico's Altima leave-in conditioner so that you don't have to kill a few minutes in the shower every morning, followed by a bit of shea butter for gloss. Mmmm, I love shea butter. The stuff I use is lavender-scented [from Pre de Provence], and comes in a little tin like shoe polish. You liquify a bit in your palms and rake it through your hair while it's still a little damp; pushing it away from your hairline will hold those growing-out bits out of your face.
Not being busty, I don't know what to tell you about tops. I feel so sorry for chesty babes; it seems like you have the choice to either go non-fitted and look heavy, or tight and look as though they're hot to trot. Of course, when I go to Vicky's, everything in my size has a couple inches of padding in it, as if I should not even contemplate leaving the house with an unaugmented B cup.
I do like the Savvy section at Nordstrom, which strikes a good balance between twentysomething trendiness and somber adulthood. I can't shop at joints that pitch to teens and twentyish types [Mariposa, the Brass Plum, Contempo] anymore because I can't stand their stupid hip-hop music. Sad, I know. I am truly over the [Lauryn] hill.
Now that I've properly horrified Ms. Houlihan, I'll just crawl back into my hole with my mirror and the latest issue of _Vogue_ to revel in my shallowness.
-- Kim Rollins, August 21, 1999.

I think I pissed her off, no? I didn't mean to.

I emailed her:

"Fascinated and aghast" doesn't mean "disgusted out of all proportion and respect"! Boy howdy. You had great stories about dyeing your hair and whatnot, which I thoroughly enjoyed, but such activity is completely alien to me, who only extremely infrequently wears make-up and doesn't understand why anyone would dye, bleach, or perm hair. If "aghast" was too strong a word, I think "fascinated" balances it out. And where did I say or imply shallow? Criminy. You were, and remain on what little evidence you submit, one of the best writers I have seen on the web, which is a quality I don't associate with shallowness.

My first impulse was to email her, and I did; while writing the email my second impulse was to reply to the forum as well, since she did. I squelched that, because she didn't really. I only think so because I am resisting being faced with Another Instance of Lisa Tactlessness and Thoughtless Off-the-cuff-ism and want to deny public remonstration (however rightfully delivered). Kim's submission only opened and closed with acid dismissals of your humble narrator; the gist was all about Beth, as it should be. Beth's forum is Beth's, not mine to grovel defensively in; this is mine, the Beauty School Drop-Out's.

Kim knows how to strand people at a drive-in, doesn't she? Linda of Stranger Than Fiction shredded her, Beth disagreed, and that started an interesting exchange (with a moral: Beth's right plus she's a lawyer, so back off). Hope of news of her ups Rob's hits. Wil probably had a bigger immediate and sustained audience than any journaler who started that month. If word gets out that Kim said I have drool on my collar, my audience will surge.

So hi. Keep the hate-mail to a minimum please and turn off the lights on your way out. And remember, if you can't express yourself as well as Kim did, write your own damn web page. I can't, and I do.

After I had written all this, Kim responded to my email, and I breathed a sigh of relief that we each regretted our tone. I sent her the above for comment. She pointed out she hasn't been entirely absent, evincing further egotism on my part that any paltry aside of mine could make her break her silence.

Reading her in the forum, I squirmed with embarrassment: "The author of one of the best-liked journals ever (though but four or five months total: she was that good) said this about me and particularly called my mind little and now everyone will hate me." Now, with the reassurance of her email, despite knowing that the most minor obscure question on Beth's forum gets more attention in a day than my entire site has ever, somehow the worry about global antilisaism dissipated. That is a saner reaction than I expected myself to have.