Happy Monday, ladies! This past week, my daughter talked me into joining her for an adult beginner ballet class. When the teacher asked us to introduce ourselves, I casually mentioned I hadn’t worn ballet shoes in over fifty years.
The words came out of my mouth before I fully processed them, and then I just stood there, blinking. Fifty years? Saying it out loud made me feel like a dinosaur in blue leggings. It was honestly a little shocking. How has it really been that long?
The class was labeled “beginner,” which meant it was too simple for my brain but just challenging enough for my body to stage a protest. My arches threatened mutiny, my big toe cramped (right on cue) the moment I tried to point it, and my arms felt significantly heavier than I recall. I held up better than I expected, but my body certainly filed a complaint the next day. Apparently, those deep hip muscles responsible for turnout haven’t been called into action since the Nixon administration.
Maybe there’s still some muscle memory tucked away in there, but strength? That’s going to be the uphill battle. When the instructor called out the French terms, though, I lit up. I knew exactly what she meant. I was ready for a jeté. In my head, anyway.
The real magic was the live pianist. That detail alone transported me straight back to my childhood ballet classes at age six. I can still picture my teacher, Janet Baldwin, gliding around the studio with a wooden stick, gently tapping us into better posture. Those memories feel closer than they have any right to…like they happened last week, not five decades ago.
It’s strange how quickly time passes, yet how clearly some moments remain.
And yes, you may spot me in blue leggings in this photo—but let me explain. I arrived in jeans like a sensible adult. I only wore the leggings back to the car because I was too exhausted to change. I shuffled out, dragging my tail feathers, and drove home that way, fully exhausted, but oddly delighted.
Before ballet class, we stopped for a short forest walk…because why not add a little birdwatching to a day already scheduled to humble me?
I was wearing jeans and my favorite Athleta tee. I have them in several colors and wear them for Pilates, walking outdoors, going to the gym, and now ballet. It has those clever grippy edges at the hem, so it doesn’t ride up when you move or bend over…which makes it surprisingly perfect for both bird spotting and ballet barre work. Practicality in action.
We pulled up the Merlin bird app (as we do now), and it picked up a Chestnut-Backed Chickadee, Anna’s Hummingbird, and Swainson’s Thrush. We heard them clearly…until we stopped moving. Then silence. I swear these birds know when we’re paying attention.
We never actually see them, just hear their chorus floating around us. But it’s oddly soothing. I’m not a full-fledged birder, but I’m definitely bird-adjacent at this point.
After our walk, I swapped the jeans for blue Vuori leggings and traded my sneakers for ballet slippers. One minute I’m in the forest listening to birds, and the next I’m trying to rise into a relevé without my calves cramping. Just your average Saturday.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about proportions…not just body proportions, but facial ones. Specifically, where the emphasis goes, and how that changes the whole balance.
I’ve always had a strong jaw (thank you, genetics), but lately it’s feeling more prominent. My hair hasn’t been helping because it’s grown into a one-length shape that lands somewhere between Cleopatra and motorcycle helmet. What it’s not doing is softening anything.
So, I’ve booked a haircut. I think it’s time to return to a few long layers at the crown to add some lift and movement. I’m not looking for a full makeover—just a gentle adjustment to help rebalance the proportions around my face. Something similar to how I wore it back in 2018. The bangs were a bit wispier then, slightly side-swept, and the overall shape just worked better with my bone structure.
Of course, I was bleaching my hair at the time, so it looked and felt thicker—which helped. But that’s the general idea I’m aiming for.
My daughter, who knows both me and the hairdresser, joked that I was going to terrorize him. She’s not entirely wrong. I am a bit neurotic about my hair. But I’ll be very polite—come armed with plenty of reference photos and make sure to skip the caffeine beforehand.
That said, if he tries to give me a mullet (and yes, I’ve been down that road before)… then all bets are off.
This little hair epiphany set off a ripple effect, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the mirror rethinking my entire makeup routine. I’ve always been a bold-eye, soft-lip kind of woman. Smoky shadow, dark lashes, and something subtle on the mouth—that’s been my comfort zone for years.
Well. Enter Ilia’s soft brown mascara. I tried it on a whim and suddenly everything shifted. It’s a cool brown, just a notch softer than black, and somehow it makes my lashes look defined without shouting. More “gently alert” than “nightclub at noon.” That one little tube sent me down a rabbit hole. I’ve been skipping eyeshadow entirely, reaching for bolder lip color, and wondering who this low-maintenance version of me is—and how long she plans to stay.
FRAXEL PROGRESS
A few of you have kindly asked how my Fraxel treatment went, and the honest answer is… it’s too soon to tell. Fraxel is one of those “be patient, trust the process” things, which is not my strong suit. The results are supposed to appear gradually over a few months, and most people need multiple sessions.
I had the procedure on August 22…here I am for the first 4 days after.
I iced my face several times a day and kept it slathered with moisturizer. The swelling was the worst on day 1,2, and 3. Day 5 is when the peeling started and even that wasn’t as bad as I expected. If there’s a dramatic improvement, you’ll be the first to hear about it. And if not—well, you’ll hear about that too. I’m not here to pretend everything works miracles. (Btw- the green you see on my face on day 3, is the Phyto Corrective Mask my dermatologist suggested which is really soothing.
So that’s where my head is this Monday…on feet that are fifty years older and not entirely thrilled about being back in ballet slippers, birds I can hear but never quite catch a glimpse of, a Cleopatra haircut nearing retirement, a soft brown mascara that’s flipped my usual routine, and a face that’s recovering from Fraxel and politely keeping me waiting for results.
What’s swirling in your thoughts this week?