Last week, I got hit with the ugly stick.
So hard I was quite literally sore from being so darn ugly.
As Scott would say, I was “frugly”. In the Taylor household, this is a more polite and loving alternative to the word “fugly”.
I realize that sounds really harsh, but I assure you, “frugly” is a term of affection between the husband and me. Typically, Scott will approach me, and in his very best Grover from Sesame Street voice, ask ”Why you so frugly today?” before lovingly planting a kiss on my cheek. The term is mutual, and we use it to describe each other’s appearances freely and without offense or malice. Think of it as a pet name for those days when you choose not to brush your hair or apply social required products such as deodorant, toothpaste or underwear.
Before I shock you all with photographic evidence, let me explain a few of the incidents that led up to such frugliness.
1. I forgot all of my makeup in Nebraska over Memorial Day. Scott’s mom graciously offered to mail it to me, but it took four days to arrive in Minnesota.
2. Our holiday weekend at the lake left me covered with bug bites. I was basically an itchy, walking scab.
3. I decided since I was going without makeup, there would be no harm in letting my hair “air dry” when I got out of the shower.
4. My body decided it would be “fun” to pretend I was sixteen again, and bestowed upon me a bright red smattering of face and chest pimples.
While I would have loved to lock myself in the house all hermit-style until the frugly plague had passed, I had some business to attend to. Namely, a Turbo Kick class. I’ve mentioned before that I have no problem going without makeup and am morally opposed to overdoing cosmetics at the gym, so showing up to class looking like this wasn’t a huge deal–even if a few of the regulars didn’t recognize me at first.
I think we can all be very thankful I’m not Amish. Aside from the fact that I have about as much natural beauty as a bundle of overripe skunk cabbage, I also tend to have issues with bearded authority figures and making pies.
I was at least grateful I had a headband to control my nappy air-dried weave.
Little did I know the two-faced scoundrel headband was about to turn on me.
When teaching Turbo Kick I always wear a wireless microphone, as yelling at full decibel while performing plyometric air jacks is really difficult. During my last few classes, I’ve had issues with the mic staying in place as I bounce about the room. For some reason, I thought wrapping my headband around the mic might make things more secure.
I thought wrong. Ten minutes into the routine, my microphone and scoundrel headband simultaneously shook loose. I was forced to stop the class and adjust my ponytail so that I wouldn’t look like this for the remaining fifty minutes.
I think someone may have actually stifled a scream.
As if my sweaty locks of frugliness weren’t embarrassing enough, I had to blow my nose. Bad. This actually isn’t that unusual during a Turbo Kick class. Whether I’m sick or not, exercise has always been a decongestant for me–thankfully, the YMCA keeps a fresh box of Kleenex at the front of the group exercise studio.
Unfortunately, they were out. At this point, I started to wonder if my frugliness could be the result of a conpsiracy.
But there was no time for analysis–my sinuses needed relief. In an act of desperation, I called for a water break an snagged one of the disinfecting wipes used to clean yoga mats so that I might create a makeshift tissue. As I didn’t want Lysol on my face (you can’t clean away frugly), I held the sanitary wipe an inch or so away from the tip of my nose and let ‘er rip.
Apparently, I really let ‘er rip–the imitation Kleenex blew to the ground, while yours truly was left standing in front of twenty-three women, looking like She-Moses with a tidal wave of snot traveling across her face.
That my friends, is Frugly with a capital “F”.
My makeup has since arrived from Nebraska, and the bug bites and acne have cleared up. I’ve discovered a newfound appreciation for my flat iron and even tried to redeem myself by showing up to my next Turbo class sporting a much more…er…put together look.
But it didn’t matter. Clearly the damage had been done — my snot-faced Moses look was permanently etched in the minds of my students. I was forced to learn my lesson the hard way.
Frugly is forever.
Even Especially if you resort to side ponytails.
Editor’s Note: This post was not written as a deranged attempt to fish for compliments. We’ve all seen the photos. I was frugly. It happened, and I’m embracing it. In fact, I think the world would be a better place if every once in a while, we decided to own our frugliness without apology. Giving the ugly stick a big ol’ hug is actually a pretty good reminder that what we look like isn’t really all that important. Although you should always try to carry some Kleenex with you…just in case.
Want more? Subscribe via email.