Adjusting to life in the South took some time. Though I considered myself somewhat en vogue at the time, I didn’t wear a ton of makeup nor did I really care what I wore to go work out, to wear to the cafeteria, or to even check the mail. So if my attire was composed of a sweater, plaid PJ pants and clogs – well, so be it. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

This did NOT sit well with my roommates. An intervention was imminent.

I remember one night, my crush from my psychology class (who earned the creative moniker of “Psychology Hottie”) called me to study. It was a Thursday, nearing midnight. I doubt that the “studying” he had in mind would actually include academic pursuits, but who knows. Being that he woke me from my sleep (why I wasn’t out on a Thursday night is beyond me, but we’ll let that go for now, shall we?) I had no intention of getting dolled up; in fact, my preparation included brushing my hair and teeth. (That’s just a given.) After all, he knew he had woken me up, so why primp & over-prettify when he’d immediately know that I had changed, put on makeup, and the like?

The reaction I received from my roommates was similar to telling a southerner that “y’all” had been removed from Webster’s dictionary. They were NOT HAPPY. Within a minute, I had one girl going through my closet, throwing shirts and skirts and jeans and sweaters on my bed, trying to decide what I should wear. The other was throwing my contact case & solution at me with the military-style order that I was to take OFF my glasses & put the contacts in IMMEDIATELY. Then came the makeup & hair – I was attacked with a brush while another roommate simultaneously was telling me to be steady – you see, she was trying to put on mascara and BLUE eyeliner.

Like a deer in headlights, I allowed them to give me a makeover in record time that would usually be seen on one of those “rags to riches” shows. Hell, if HE was Southern, and THEY were Southern – well, they knew what they were doing, right?

I drew the line at perfume. I could MAYBE get away with wearing jeans. Perhaps I didn’t take my makeup off before I went to bed! But perfume – no way. He’d know that I’d put it on just for him, and that was embarrassing.

“No, that’s the point. He WILL know you put it on just for him,” drawled the roommates.

Perfume was applied. I was officially broken down, and in the years that followed, though I still would wear a mishmash of outfits to the cafeteria nor did I ever put on makeup BEFORE working out, I learned the power of pre-date prepping along with a touch of lipstick.

So, 9 years later, I find it hilarious that one of my co-workers just took one look at my outfit and deemed it unsuitable to wear to my current squeeze’s house.

“I’ve seen you look much cuter. Hit the mall – stop at Sephora! You need some makeup! – and buy a pair of jeans. Or a skirt. Or something. Please…”

Apparently, some things never change.