Pin Me Up

I believe in timing. 

I believe in truth.

I believe in the tiniest changes making monumental differences. 

You used to dress up all the time, my manager told me last week.

I was wearing leggings and a hoodie. 

I rarely paint my nails anymore. 

I'd sort of divided my life into two. 

The life I led at night.

And then I'd go through the motions in a fog at work. 

If I had more plans for the next night I'd set my hair on my lunch break and finish my makeup when I got off work. 

I couldn't tell you the last time I wore any jewelry. 

I haven't been myself for awhile. 

I don't really know when that happened. 

Or even why. 

But late Sunday night, as I flipped through the pages of Your Beauty Mark I suddenly knew what I needed to do.

I went into the bathroom and started setting my hair.

Pincurls, bobby pins zig zagged across my head. 

I used to go to sleep in pincurls every night, or every other night depending on how the curl set.

But I never did it anymore. 

So this night, with my little mermaid shower cap covering the soon to be curls on my head, I painted my nails my favorite shade of red. 

And the next day, I made myself get up earlier than I wanted, and I put on one of the dresses I was so excited about last year when pinup girl clothing was having a sale, and I tied an old shirt at my waist and paired it with a belt I loved and left the house with my red lipstick already on. 

And I felt like myself again. 

After work I ran some errands. 

A boy on a bike rode past me, his eyes following me as he continued to ride past. 

You've got that pin up look going, it works for ya, he said.

I smiled and thanked him as he was nearly out of ear shot by then. 

And I took myself out for dinner and the waitress told me I was so adorable and she just loved my look. 

Are you going to an event or is this just how you dress?

And I smiled and said, This is just how I dress. 

And it was such a small difference. 

Remembering to do the things that make me happy, that make me feel like me. 

That make me feel beautiful. 

And the photographer I shot with a month ago was such a random happenstance.

But was another reminder how much I love old Hollywood style. 

That's its who I am.

And because of those few shots which I honestly just wanted to make one particular fool miss me, it led to another shoot and connecting with other photographers.

And I even applied for a modeling site and was accepted. 

I got a Tinder match yesterday who is actually a photographer using the site to network. 

And he wants to shoot. 

And it's my look. 

My look they want to shoot.  

My pinup, old hollywood, film noir, glamorous look.

That I'd forgotten was so important to me. 

And it's just fashion. 

And just makeup and hairspray.

But it's me. 

It's an extension of my spirit.

My shine.

And experiences are worth having and there are some nights you need to go home at two in the morning and sleep for four hours. 

Because those nights are some of the most unforgettable. 

But most nights, most nights I want to listen to Peggy Lee before bed as I set my hair and choose the dress I want to wear in the morning. 

And everything else will fall into place. 

Because when I'm actually being myself, the epic connections will come to me. 

Maybe my next great love will even be a photographer. 

To be some man's muse?

Sweet bliss, yes.