Vanity is a Bitch

Vanity can be a real bitch - especially as you get older. I remember being about 14, sitting in my living room reading some tween magazine like Seventeen and rubbing cream all over my feet. This beauty regimen lasted about one day before I thought, "Screw it! This isn't going to do anything for me long-term!"

Now I'm wondering if an ounce of prevention would have prevented the thick layer of callused heel skin that now snags lingerie on my bedroom floor. The picture below looks exactly like the bottom of my current feet - minus the "After" shot.



God forbid I used sunscreen or moisturizer. After slathering pure baby oil on my body, I wasn't about to consider an anti-wrinkle SPF potion. You just don't think you are ever going to age - until you do. Sooner or later, it just hits you in the face like a Chris Brown vs. Rihanna brawl in the parking lot. (Ok. Poor taste. But that's how it feels...I'm guessing.)

So, now that I am in Yakima, my choices for various beauty regimens are pretty limited. Where or where will I find Kim Kardashian's eyelashes? Or, skin like Jessica Alba? Or, a bikini wax like that of a Las Vegas stripper? Work with me people! Where is a girl to go? Little hidden gems are everywhere in Yakima - you just have to crawl under a rock to find them. Here is a smattering of hidden gems that are sure to bring my aging body back to life...

Jessica Alba's Skin Tone - Spray Tans at Paradise Island Tanning



The younger, better me had a very nice tan. I'm assuming that when you are thinner, and enjoy wearing a bathing suit, you naturally expose more of your body to the sun. Unfortunately, I would rather eat cow dung than be in a bathing suit in public - as I am quite sure that others would rather eat cow dung than have to look at me in a swimsuit. Sure...I gotcha. That being said, I feel more like an albino than an Italian - and I am not at all happy about that. So, you know what they say...if you can't tone it, tan it.

And being lazy and impatient, I don't really have the time or inclination to go to a tanning booth. So, I bit the bullet and scheduled a spray tan. I was told that Paradise Island was the very best place to go. Actually, it is the best place by default because it is the only place - but that's beside the point.

I was told that although you can go topless, you must wear some sort of undies. They stated this in such a way that led me to believe they had seen something awful...something they were not willing to see ever again. I happily complied and showed up in a loose fitting cover up, a strapless bra, and some teeny tiny underwear. Turns out this was not a great look.

Kathy, my "airbrush artist" had me step into this closet and undress. My boobs, being both large and real, are extreme victims of gravity. Not wanting tan lines that outlined limp and lifeless breasts, I opted to keep my strapless bra on.

Well, that was not a good idea. Strapless, obviously implies no straps. No straps implies that there was nothing to hold me up. Nothing to hold me up meant that I was doomed to a tubular-shaped tan line somewhere around my mid section. Highly attractive.

Kathy then asked me to stand up straight with my arms out to my sides and my legs spread apart. In order for me to have my thighs not touching, I have to spread my legs very, very, far apart. I am now about 3 feet tall and about to lose my balance. To say that I was "airbrushed" is a little misleading. In realty I was hosed down like a muddy jeep at a car wash. It was cold and the spray was violent. Even worse was that I had to turn around and allow Kathy to hose down my big, white butt cheeks. With my short legs, and her hosing me down while sitting on her knees, her face was pretty much at butt cheek level. No wonder she insists on you wearing something down there. I wouldn't want to look up the ass crack of fatties all day. And you know it's just the fatties that get this done. The skinny bitches are out at the beach in their little bikinis getting the real deal - actual sunlight. Meanwhile, I am standing half naked in a closet in front of a woman with a hose - and paying for it. Winning.

Wax or Vajazzle Your Bikini Area at eNails


I did it! I finally found the very best waxer in all of Yakima. I think her name is Phoa Quong Li - or something traditional like that - and she was sent from the waxing Gods. I happened upon her while getting a mani/pedi at e-Nails in Chalet Village. As Phoa Quong Li was sloughing the callouses off of my heels, I heard another patron ask if she was available for a bikini wax. Naturally, my ears perked up and I asked if I, too, could be squeezed in for an impromptu waxing. Poor Phoa Quong Li had no idea what she was in for. It had been a few months since my last waxing - but this was now her problem, not mine.

She escorted me to the waxing room and asked me to pull down my pants. Having just had my nails done, there was little I could do to comply with this request. I didn't want to ruin my fresh mani! But Phoa Quong Li did not hesitate. She whisked over to me and said, "I pull down pants for you. No ruin your nails."

Okay. This feels awkward. Now, I pull down my kids pants all of the time, but this was a first for me. And it's not like I was wearing stretchy pants with elastic. I had on my tight jeans. Yes, all of my pants are tight, but that's neither here nor there. Here I was, standing with my arms up, nails drying in the air, with a tiny Asian woman working her ass off to get my pants down. While my husband might think this was the start of a very happy ending, I was not so hopeful.

I finally got on the table and Phoa Quong Li started to examine my pubic area. I'll admit, I was a little alarmed and embarrassed that she darted out of the room and came back in with rubber gloves and a mask. I reasoned that an Asian might not know what to do with an Italian and she quickly recognized the scale and magnitude of the task ahead of her.

Let me tell you, she was amazing. I'm not sure what she did, or what tools she was using, but she was some sort of modern day Edward Scissorhands for the pubic region. She used hot wax, then scissors, then tweezers, and then a few contraptions I had never seen before. She was an artist working her magic.

rip, rip, rip!
snip, snip, snip!
tweeze, tweeze, tweeze!

I just had to close my eyes, try to relax, and let her work her magic. With the length of time it took, and the arsenal of tools she utilized, I half expected my pubic hair to resemble a perfectly coiffed Disney character. But when she finally handed me a mirror to check out her work, I have to say it was truly amazing. Her Engrish may need some work, but for a hairless Asian girl, she sure can rock the bikini wax! (I passed on the vajazzle...I'm not quite vajazzle-ready.)

Kim Kardashian's Eyelashes? Try Cayla at Winks Eyelash Studio



The latest gem I recently uncovered is a little place called "Winks" and it was tucked deep in the bowels of a salon called "Hair Cafe" conveniently located at 48th and Tieton. Here, I was told, is where Cayla could brilliantly transform my eyelashes into that of Kim Kardashian - one eyelash at a time. Considering that my eyelashes are nearly translucent, short, and extremely sparse, I was eager to try this "eyelash extension" craze. When I called Winks, I was told that I would have to wait six weeks for the next available appointment. Wow! I guess I am more than a little late for this fad - even by Yakima's standards - and that is not okay.

The Hair Cafe's lobby looked a little like the early bird dinner seating at the Elk's Lodge. It was here that I almost tripped over Mildred's oxygen machine. Mildred was actually sleeping on the large, plush, brown sofa - eagerly waiting for her perm - and I scared the dickens out of her. This was not a good sign.

Eventually Cayla led me back to her studio filled with pink and black faux fur and a pair of fuzzy dice dangling from the ceiling fan. Although tempted to dash for the door, I had secured this appointment with a $75 deposit and was not about to lose it.  I climbed up on her table and laid down.

Cayla: Do you want something natural? Or, something dramatic?
Me: Is there a happy medium?
Cayla: Of course!

Cayla informed me this would take nearly two hours to complete and I would not be able to open my eyes at any point during this procedure. I have to say, laying down for two hours and being forced to have my eyes closed seemed well worth the $75 already. But, as with any beauty regimen, there is always a price to pay. She asked me to look up and then began taping down my lower lashes. This did not feel good. In fact, I felt like she was stuffing gauze underneath my eyeball. Not fun.

Then, the tedious work began. One eyelash at a time she would glue one false eyelash to one tiny real eyelash on my upper lid. I tried to relax as the sound of the moving ocean and chirping birds sang in my ears. Every now and then I would feel like I was totally relaxed until I realized that my butt muscles were totally clenched and my toes were curled straight out.

Two hours later, here is the final result -

What do you think? I am sure you are all just so happy I spared you the "After" shot of my bikini wax :) You're welcome!