My moustache and husband’s hair is growing, if the lockdown continues then we would look like (bad) clones of each other. Almost like celebrity wax statues, where the statue looks similar yet not really similar. Both of us like many other people all over the world have not visited the salon in the longest time. We are on our way to reverse our evaluation and become Neanderthals once again.
Pre-Lockdown, on a regular day, I used to wake up and change my nightclothes (read: quintessential Bong nighty) and slip into track pants and go for the morning walk. After coming back, I used to take a bath and change into my regular decent clothes and start working by 10am. However, now till 2pm, I roam around in my nighty (which is also torn in a couple of places). Well, I am the kind of woman who always hated to watch women roaming around in their nightclothes and actually judged them. I always scorned women in nighty like Maya Sarabhai did. However, this lockdown changed my thoughts. Now, I give preference to comfort over anything.
My eyebrows now resembles a caterpillar, my body hair can make a chimpanzee run for her money. The man also roams around in his night shorts all through the night and day. His hair has grown and he doesn’t shave everyday. If we click a couple photo now and post it on some crowdfunding platform for the homeless, we will surely amass a fortune.
Drastically our looks change the moment we have to attend some official calls. We put on a formal shirt above whatever we are wearing and sit in front of the camera. The upper and the lower part of the body literally start struggling with multiple personality disorder. If the lockdown persists any longer than we would forget wearing trousers and skirts for sure.
Our house is equally messy. My regular readers are aware that I suffer from ataxophobiaand used to be poor woman’s Marie Kondo, you could read my previous posts on home organisation However, the lockdown changed my entire personality. Gone are the days of a clean house, now half of the things are on the floor and I am least bothered. Everybody is home, the boys in the house never liked my cleaning routine. This time I have stopped being a cleanliness Nazi and allowing them to relax the way they want to. I am no longer bothered if their feet is on the sofa or if the Lego bricks are all over the house. Nobody is going to visit us so what is the urgency to clean? Let the boys relax the way they want to, even if it means an untidy house.
I think, I am not alone in this journey to ‘eternal ugliness’. Most of the pretty women have stopped posting selfies on their timeline. That means they have also retreated to their stone age avatar. It makes me feel comfortable. Honestly, I am not the makeup type, but then again I am also not the one who would let her body hair grow like Rapunzel. After the lockdown is over, I doubt if my old photos would even resemble me. What is your story of cleaning and grooming during lockdown? I am eager to know.