Flee, flee, flee from the shopping mall, Scruffy Girl!!

So for the 2nd night running I've had to pop to one of Dubai's legendary shopping malls (it was the one with the ski slope in it) - quite why they are so legendary is a cause of some debate - and was the scruffiest female of the species there!

I dress appropriately for my average day which often involves a variety of animal hair, dribble or worse (yesterday it was baby lion wee-wee, tomorrow it could be an overly bouncy Labrador) and the freedom to be able to get from A to B as quickly and comfortably as possible.

Am pretty proud of my life, who I am, what I do and pleased to not be so self-obsessed as to spend hours and 1,000's on over-priced clothes and make-up.

However, there are occasions when I am struck by the chasm between myself and your typical Dubai glamour-puss trawling the Mall who having stepped out of the nearest nail bar and finished their skinny-decaf-mocha-bocca-cino, are carefully 'clip-clip-clipping' their way to the next designer shop.

These visions are perfectly and hugely coiff-ed - I am badly in need of a coiffing session but have to wait another week till my friend the hairdresser has a minute to fit me in. (Here was Carolyn's last fab job she did on me, just seconds after, 5 mins later it looked very different - a worryingly long time ago now!!!)

They have perfect eyebrows (often drawn on most dramatically & at alarmingly impossible angles) and skin (or certainly appear so) - actually they are usually made up to within an inch of my life and do not have a look I could bear. It is all thick foundation, mega-dramatic eyes, HUGE botox lips, big hair.

However, I'm sure the ladies in the cosmetic counters do not recoil in horror as they approach. And for this I kind of envy them. A WHOLE lot of time, money and effort has gone into these visions. Would be nice I guess but I simply haven't the inclination. I could always think of better things to do with my time & cash.

And so, this is how it went for me this evening:

Take deep breath and enter cosmetic place where there are about 50 assistants waiting just waiting ....... but not for the likes of me who buys ONE bit of posh make-up once in a blue moon.

I was approached (god how I hate the way they lurk and pounce, must be in the training manual) by a creature with THE MOST amount of black kohl round her eyes I have ever seen. It was everywhere. Top, bottom, inside, winging almost out to her ears - thick, thick, thick, inches high above and below her eye, black black kohl. Sharply outlined lips, 2 or 3 shades darker than her thick thick thick jammy lipstick - god how they love that look here. Foundation you could probably find the remains of Shergar in etc etc.

'Can I help you?' she said, looking me up & down, taking in my scruffy Crocs and looking thoroughly convinced that I was well beyond ANY help at all. (please note: mine are not pink!)

- as this point I usually say a stern 'no thank you, I'm just looking' and go about my business. But tonight I said....

'Yes, please, I'm looking for ..... My friend recommended it.'

They don't have the thing I'm looking for but helpful lady points me in the direction of something similar.

She puts a dab on my finger - I crack a joke (a thing I do when I'm a bit nervous). I thought it was funny, she didn't.

I look up into mirror so I am able to apply said cosmetic in the appropriate area of face and am met by a pale, tired-looking, SHOCKING-HAIR'D, freckly, make-up that went-on-this-morning-all-gone-now face.

I recall the phase that draws some comparison between purses and sow's ears and ......

....... I flee. I flee as fast as feet in Crocs can flee.

I flee to McDs and get chips.

I start counting the days till the facial that I have booked on our wedding anniversary. My 2nd EVER facial.

I shall be a vision and then....... then, I shall return to cosmetic place, with my good hair and glowy face.

But I'll still be wearing my Crocs cos you never know when a baby lion might wee on you.