Appearances matter.

Ask anyone. You'll rarely catch my mom without her lipstick on. As long as I've known her, she's been always dressed just "so" with her nails, hair and lipstick usually picture perfect.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. My friends sometimes throw an impromptu gathering for tea and know that I won't come over unless my eyebrows are on. Ha. I've learned to let that go a bit. Life is too busy to always be well-kempt every minute of the day.

Isn't it always Murphy's Law though, that the one day you feel like shit, look like shit and walk with your head down as to avoid all eye contact that you hear your name being called, sheepishly look up from under your disguised hat and see that one person you haven't seen for years, seeing you look like shit? It's usually your ex, your ex with his new fabulous woman (think Natasha and Carrie in the Frickken-Annie-get-your-clothes-on scene) or a frenemy that you just know will report back to her girls that she spotted you looking like shit. You almost immediately want to proclaim that you normally don't look like shit.

Shit.

Today, I was caught with egg on my face. Do you ever day dream in an awake state? I normally do this when I'm drying my hair. It's that one moment in the day that I sit and don't have anything else distracting me. I had an appointment with a business consultant yesterday here in Brantford. The firm is very casual but I always come dressed appropriately. You never know whom you'll run into and what that first impression may lead to. Today in my reverie, I considered dressing up, yet I knew I was merely quickly dropping off a loose leaf paper. I thought that someone may comment on my casual attire but quickly dismissed it.

During a seminar on Tuesday, the presenter recounted a gentleman who came in with his business plan. He stunk like cigarettes and body odour. His hands were filthy. He had sandals on and his feet were nasty. He was in the cake baking business. I rest my case. Today, I had to drop off some paperwork to their office. It's damp and raining, I'm sick and trying to rest for a series of weddings this weekend. I threw on my Lulu Lemons, tied back my wet hair and adorned my best and biggest hat.

The paperwork was fine. I'm ready to present my business to the Dragon's Den type of committee next week. I'm confident they'll see the passion flowing through my veins and I'll win them over with my charm and business plan. The consultant, a retired and lovely lady, leaned in and wished me luck. I was feeling good. Then, she offered me a piece of personal advice: "Make sure your nails are done next week, dear."

Busted. I quickly apologized for my dishevelled appearance and reassured her like the frenemy I hadn't seen in years that I don't normally look like this. My hands instantly disappeared under the desk and I was conscious to keep them there for the remainder of the meeting.

We live in a world where appearances matter. They shouldn't, but they do. Michael and I make a concerted effort to dress as guests would when photographing a wedding. People notice. They comment. Extra effort matters. When you dress the part, you also feel the part. I feel much more confident going in for job interviews in a kick ass suit, than a hoody and jeans. My husband has had to scale back his dress clothes in his line of work because when you're dealing with job sites and blue collar industries, people take you more seriously and respond more if you look like you can roll your sleeves up and get your hands dirty. That's different.

There is never enough time in the day to get everything done. Especially for women, housework and appearance are last on the list of priorities of important things to get done in a day. With this being said, be aware that you never know who you will run into in a day, and what they will notice about you.

Today I was caught with chipped nailpolish and wet hair, but rest assured, there will be no egg on my face next week.

My mom will be proud.
:)