I'll just go ahead and confess right now that I got my toes done yesterday.
Not only that? I got my toes done before vacation too.
The truth is that I'll probably get my toes done again this summer. And I'll keep getting them done until the weather turns too chilly for open-toed shoes.
Not that I can afford it or anything.
I'm a recent convert to the pedicure. Recent as in the last couple of years or so. The truth is, crazy as it sounds, I used to think that sitting in a throne-like chair and thrusting your feet into the face of a stranger and paying them to massage your feet and clip and paint your toenails was just all...a little too much, you know? It just seemed so bourgeois and a little icky.
And it seemed that way right up until I sat in a throne like chair and thrust my feet into the face of a stranger and they massaged my feet and shaped and painted my toenails. After that I was all,
"AHHHH SWEET MYSTERY OF LIFE AT LAST I'VE FOUND YOOOOOUUUU! AT LAST I KNOW THE MEANING...."
You get my drift. I know of no other beauty process that is quite so enjoyable. I mean, getting your hair cut and styled makes you feel a whole lot better in the end, but the process is kind of boring and annoying and sometimes even painful. An eyebrow wax? Please.
But a pedicure? It's all pleasurable and soothing and relaxing and in the end? REALLY cute soft, sexy feet. Not to mention greatly expanded shoe options: peep-toes, flat sandals, strappy high heeled sandals, even bare feet look snazzy when your toes are "done".
And, yah, I could do it myself and, yah, they'd look just as cute but. A girl just has to reward herself sometimes, doesn't she? And even if I do get arrested for accidentally writing a bad check to the pedicurist, I ask you, how cute will my feet look in those prison flip-flops?
[Note to self: Call the ex-man and tearfully suggest he subsidize Pedicure Recovery Program in order to help restore my shattered self-esteem and quash my extreme loneliness since the big D. All of which is, as he well knows, totally his fault. It could happen.]
Okay where was i? Oh, right, The pedicure. Which isn't, if you can believe it by now, not actually my point.
My point is this. Ever since I've been getting pedicures, I've noticed next to every pedicure throne is, among other publications, a copy of Oprah Winfrey's "O, the Oprah Magazine" placed conveniently on the side table for my reading pleasure. And the first time, I was all like, "Hey! That's Oprah! Oh...it's her magazine!" and then I read it nearly cover to cover while getting my pedicure and it was all good.
Next pedicure? Same thing. At first I was, "Oh, darn, it's the same magazine. With Oprah on the cover. Again." Still, I picked it up thinking there may have been an article or two I missed last time around only to realize...no. This is a whole new issue. With Oprah on the cover. Again.
The third time? I was prepared. And beginning to grasp the truth. Which is that Oprah is on. The Cover of. Every. Single. Issue. Of her magazine.
How long has this been going on? Well, there's this year. And last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. And, don't get me wrong. I like Oprah. Girlfriend is nothing short of a phenomenon and she has, through her book club, almost single-handedly resurrected the ancient past time of actual READING OF BOOKS for legions of people who never would have considered it otherwise. Her charity work is amazing. And her show still often manages to be interesting even if she is sort of turning into a caricature of herself ("Everybodygetsacar! Everybodygetsacar!").
But every issue? EVERY issue? For EIGHT YEARS?
Not even Martha Stewart currently feels or has felt the need for that kind of monotonous one-note overexposure. Does Oprah really think that if she relinquishes a cover that people will forget it's her magazine? Or that they might forget what she looks like?
Not likely on either count.
No, I'd go so far as to say that even if Oprah never appeared on another cover of "O the Oprah Magazine" people would still be pretty clear the "O the Oprah Magazine" is a magazine belonging to Oprah. With an O.
So, Oprah, if you're reading? And, like everybody else, I'm sure you are, it's okay. You can step off the cover now, okay? We see you, we know you're out there! Yes we do! We're aware it's your magazine, too! Really.
Maybe you could offer your bestest, goodest girlfriend, Gail, with whom you invented the Life-Changing Girlfriend Road Trip and then proceeded to ram the whole experience down our throats as if nobody had never taken or considered a Girlfriend Road Trip, a cover. As, you know. A Life-Changing Girlfriend Gift!
But however you have do it, Oprah, do it soon. Because enough is enough, already.
(Maybe you could reallocate all the time necessary for hair and make-up for a cover shoot for a nice, relaxing pedicure. I'm just sayin'.)