to them. I love the look but it’s not something I could pull off on my own. Not by a long shot.
“What do you think?” she asks, holding her breath as she waits for my answer.
“I love it!” I reply honestly. “I’m not sure I can recreate this on my own. I’d probably end up looking like a clown.”
We both giggle like schoolgirls as the image of me trying to capture this look fills our heads. I’ve never hidden the fact I’m clueless about this kind of stuff. However, I can joke about it because it doesn’t rule me. If I want to get a look like this, the other women will help me. If I want to do my own thing, they let me. That’s why we all fit together so well.
The ol’ ladies of the club, including Sally and me, stick together. We support one another when one of the other women are going through something. We’re the ones hanging out when there’s a party at the clubhouse. We even cook together for family dinners and other club events. It’s always us against the men and the world when it comes down to it. I’ll never be more grateful than I am right now for meeting these women and having them in my life. Even the ones I’m not as close to.
As soon as my hair is done, Sam ushers me into the bathroom so I can put on the tank top and jeans. My feet remain bare because no one needs to see if I’m wearing shoes or not. When I emerge from the bathroom, she’s instantly fixing my hair before snapping a few pictures on her phone. I try to shy away from the camera, but she doesn’t let me.
“Gwen, we have to put pictures of you on the site when you create your profile. Are you really trying not to have your picture taken?” she questions me, placing a hand on her hip while staring at me.
“You know I hate my picture taken.”
“I know. This is all part of getting you out of your comfort zone a little bit. You’ll have to get used to it if you’re going to meet anyone or start talking to guys on a dating site,” she assures me, trying to calm my nerves about my picture being taken.
Sam goes through the pictures she’s taken of me in this outfit before sending me to the bathroom to put the next one on. As I’m closing the door she reminds me to wash the make-up from my face. I do as she instructs, making sure my face is clean so she can once again make me look different from the person I usually am.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m having fun with the impromptu make-over session. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. There aren’t any guys around to distract us and Kim and Fox are leaving us alone. If he’s even home yet. Fox left earlier to head to the clubhouse to do some work for a while. Kim still isn’t feeling the best, so I’ve been giving her some space to be alone. I let her rest, only checking on her periodically.
We go through the same routine with all three outfits. Each time my make-up is done and I look in the mirror, I’m blown away by the look Sam has created for me. Especially the last one when she pretty much does my make-up as I usually do. Barely anything covering my face and keeping my appearance as natural as possible.
By the time we’re done, I’m getting more used to her snapping pictures of me. Though she won’t let me see what they look like. Sam keeps telling me I can’t see until we upload them to the site. Now, that’s all we have left to do. I’m getting even more nervous because I’m about to be more out of my comfort level than I ever have been before.
Grabbing my laptop, Sam types in the name for one of the more popular sites. I’ve seen it advertised on late night TV when I can’t sleep. Or wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. We go through the questions one-by-one and Sam puts in whatever I answer. When it comes time to upload the pictures, she keeps her phone and the site hidden until she’s done. Once everything is ready to go, she makes my profile visible and turns the screen