Three hours after I stepped into a beauty salon last weekend, I walked out and looked at myself. I looked the same!


In all fairness, I am not one of those who spend long hours at the salon. I dread my trips to the salon. I equate them to prison, exile, whatever you may call it.  And most of them happen because they must. I treat my sojourns to the parlour there with great trepidation. There is prep involved too. I pack for it! I wisely arm myself with an iPod or an iPad, or a book. Sometimes all three. You never know!
At the salon I ask for stuff to be done while other stuff is being done. (If I can multi-task, why can’t multiple tasks be done simultaneously on me?) Right?

Much rearranging of salon furniture happens and I usually get my way! Not that I was ever great at numbers but I calculate the time taken for a manicure with the time taken for a haircut with the time taken for a pedicure! Voila! 3-in-one didn’t ever have a better meaning. And it’s time well utilized (while of course I am on my iPod or tweeting to the world about important advances in analytics and retail!)

So those three (long) hours last weekend were not exactly agonizing.  I multitasked with mails, calls, much tweeting, and much reading up on what the www had to say about various things like coffee to missing aircrafts and of course social media on social media.
While diligent and enthusiastic attendants slaved away at my nails and cuticles, split hairs over my split ends, and fussed over the temperature of the water for my shampoo, I slowly unwound and relaxed. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warm water as my hair was shampooed. I stared long and hard at myself in the mirror as my hair was being effortlessly blow dried. I felt my stress waning away with a gentle foot massage. When finished my feet were feeling squeaky clean, my hands feeling unfamiliarly soft and my hair looking like… well… like I’d been to a salon!

And when I finally stepped out it was different!

And this whole beauty bit fell into place. It’s not about looking beautiful. It’s not about beauty pageants. Not about a size zero. Not about the choice of your wardrobe or your accessories. It’s how good you feel inside. And I realized I felt different because I felt pampered, cleansed and squeaky clean. And when I looked at it that way, I felt beautiful.

And with a broad smile on my face, I drove home!