Weekend Update Part 1
Dec. 8th, 2003 01:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pantryslutLet's start with Thursday and the Good Vibes holiday party, shall we?
It all started at the hairdresser's.
The last time I had a haircut, it was a trim at a friend's house. Before that, it was when I shaved my own head. I have a weird relationship with my hair. I spent years as a long-haired person, so I haven't really gotten into the routine of hair cutting. Ever. And my hair grows really fast, so this is awkward. Also, I'm not good at visualizing what different styles will look like on my head.
Anyway, since I had (somewhat accidentally, due to the over-exuberant efforts of my dear boy) booked an appointment at a real hairdresser's instead of a barber or something, I decided to take advantage of it, if I could.
First, this meant that I actually let them shampoo me.
This is a fetish thing. I know that it's a pointless expense, but being bent backwards, sudsed up, scalp gently massaged by an attentive worker…ah. I could not resist. I closed my eyes and basked.
Then I made the mistake of telling my hairdresser, who by the way is *such* a femme dyke, that I was going out for the evening. Well, she asked. "Are you going to the Ball?" As if I were Cinderella. "Which ball?" I asked. "The Good Vibes Ball." "Oh. Yes, actually."
Thus was my fate sealed. Not only did she have to fancify my new cut (which is quite nice, actually) with gel and hairspray and stuff, she had to add eyeliner and lipstick, too.
It was nice lipstick. Dark and brown. Very dramatic. And it didn't clash with my clothes. And much like I enjoy the shampoo experience, I like having someone else put makeup on me. (They're generally better at it than I am anyway.)
I also blame Venus Clothes and Ebay, for providing me with just the right combination of stockings, bustier, and flame-garnished calf boots to wear to the party.
Yes, there are pictures for posterity, though I am not in possession of them, except for a Polaroid of me and Nina Harley flanking![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
imnotandrei.
My calves and thighs were rather tired the next morning, and my joints (knee and hip) complained the day after. Those boots take practice.
Yes, I have left out the part where I made a *spectacle* of myself. And that thing we did while Prince's "Kiss" was playing. But I will mention that easily a dozen people came up to me and said, "nice boots." I think it was a polite and homonymic way of complimenting my cleavage.
Final inventory: I broke a strap. And tore a stocking.
It all started at the hairdresser's.
The last time I had a haircut, it was a trim at a friend's house. Before that, it was when I shaved my own head. I have a weird relationship with my hair. I spent years as a long-haired person, so I haven't really gotten into the routine of hair cutting. Ever. And my hair grows really fast, so this is awkward. Also, I'm not good at visualizing what different styles will look like on my head.
Anyway, since I had (somewhat accidentally, due to the over-exuberant efforts of my dear boy) booked an appointment at a real hairdresser's instead of a barber or something, I decided to take advantage of it, if I could.
First, this meant that I actually let them shampoo me.
This is a fetish thing. I know that it's a pointless expense, but being bent backwards, sudsed up, scalp gently massaged by an attentive worker…ah. I could not resist. I closed my eyes and basked.
Then I made the mistake of telling my hairdresser, who by the way is *such* a femme dyke, that I was going out for the evening. Well, she asked. "Are you going to the Ball?" As if I were Cinderella. "Which ball?" I asked. "The Good Vibes Ball." "Oh. Yes, actually."
Thus was my fate sealed. Not only did she have to fancify my new cut (which is quite nice, actually) with gel and hairspray and stuff, she had to add eyeliner and lipstick, too.
It was nice lipstick. Dark and brown. Very dramatic. And it didn't clash with my clothes. And much like I enjoy the shampoo experience, I like having someone else put makeup on me. (They're generally better at it than I am anyway.)
I also blame Venus Clothes and Ebay, for providing me with just the right combination of stockings, bustier, and flame-garnished calf boots to wear to the party.
Yes, there are pictures for posterity, though I am not in possession of them, except for a Polaroid of me and Nina Harley flanking
imnotandrei.My calves and thighs were rather tired the next morning, and my joints (knee and hip) complained the day after. Those boots take practice.
Yes, I have left out the part where I made a *spectacle* of myself. And that thing we did while Prince's "Kiss" was playing. But I will mention that easily a dozen people came up to me and said, "nice boots." I think it was a polite and homonymic way of complimenting my cleavage.
Final inventory: I broke a strap. And tore a stocking.
:-)
Date: 2003-12-10 04:24 pm (UTC)New stockings $10.00
Having someone make a "spectacle" of themselves to fulfill someone's exhibitionistic tendencies...priceless.
(still looking for pictures...)