Pride, Prejudice and other bad first impressions

Chapter 3

Entirely too much of my childhood was spent suffering my mothers ministrations of beauty. She had instilled in myself and my sisters, from a very young age, fastidious rules to govern our lives. Sit up straight, always smile, keep a twinkle in your eye, don't eat too much bread, wear perfume (real stuff, not that spray bottle junk) at your pulse points, never wear red and pink together, etc. etc. I should probably write them all down and publish a book. I'm sure it would become a bestseller and mom would wind up getting her own daytime talk show or something.

I would like to believe the idea that there is not an album filled with embarrassing Glamour Shot style photos of myself and my sisters in ridiculous bedazzled and sequined outfits, wearing more makeup than should be legal for a child, but alas, I can't deny the physical proof that I was a tacky life-sized doll for my mother to dress up for most of my youth. I'm just thankful that those terrible toddler pageants were not a thing when I was little, because I'd probably have a room full of tiaras and sashes and lots of therapy to show for it. Actually, it is too bad Lydia is too old for Toddlers and Tiaras, because she would probably always win Grand Supreme; it is her natural talent to wear horrible dresses, spray tan and dance on stage in front of millions. And we wouldn't even have to feed her a million pixy stix.

This doesn't mean, of course, that I abhor everything my mother chose to teach us. I'm grateful that I have good posture and I do love getting mani-pedi's, but there is a big part of me that wishes she would not be so...pushy. I am a conservative dresser, but that is probably just because fashion isn't really my thing. I like books and movies and sushi, and I leave the clothes stuff up to Jane, because that is what she loves. Makeup isn't really my thing either; my daily routine consists of tinted moisturizer, mascara and lip balm, but that doesn't mean I don't want to look good for the Regatta.

So I had, of course, once again, submitted myself to the ministrations of Lydia. However much I make fun of my sister, she is amazing at makeup, and she made all of her sisters, and her mother as well, look like knockouts for the Regatta. This knack for prettifying us is one I've tried to encourage in my sister. I've dropped hints about beauty school, and how maybe she could become a makeup artist for famous people, but so far anything I've said has fallen on deaf ears. The problem is that Lydia wants to BE famous, not work for famous people. I've even suggested she make some makeup videos and upload them to Youtube, but she just wrinkled her nose at me and said, "Ew."

"I wonder if Bing Li is a good dancer." Jane said. "I love dancing."

"Oh, he totally is." Lydia confided.

"Seriously?" I asked.

Mary, who reached for the eyelash curler but was shooed by Lydia turned and smiled at me. "Lydia found a clip on Youtube. He can be seen briefly in one of the Fusion Dynasty opening parties. And yes, he can drop it like its hot."

I snorted, but Jane just sighed again. "I wonder if he would ask me to dance with him?"

"Duh," Lydia stuck her tongue out. "You are like, the prettiest girl in the Hamptons. If he doesn't ask you to dance then he is a moron."

"Awww thanks." Jane smiled.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to Lydia. "So you admit Jane is the prettiest?"

"Whatever," Lydia said, applying a bit of shimmery eyeshadow to the inner corners of her eyes. "Jane may be the prettiest, but I am the hottest."

I had to admit that Lydia had done a fabulous job when we looked at ourselves in the hall mirror before leaving to the Regatta. Mother, of course, started hyperventilating about how "gorgeous and beautiful" we all were, and how we had to make sure to dance with Bing Li and his friend and honestly I just prayed that she wouldn't make a spectacle of herself all night.