Definitely Not a Hip Young Urbanite

I think my title explains my problem. I’m not quite old yet, but I admit to being rather old-fashioned. (I mean, does anyone even say ‘hip’ anymore?) My main character in my current wip (work in progress) made several appearances in Show No Weakness and I thought I knew her really well. I was wrong. Maggie is twenty-seven years old. She’s single, has a career, grew up in the city and is modern in every way. Totally the opposite of me. Why do I do this to myself?
How can I channel my inner girlie-girl when I’m pretty sure I was born missing that gene? I might be female, but no one can accuse me of being girlie. I’m a bit of a peacock and love girlie colours; my wardrobe is full of bright colours, especially pinks and purples of every shade. I enjoy wearing casual dresses, but am much more comfortable in pants or capris. Shoe shopping is an exquisite form of torture for me. I love looking at gorgeous high heels, but please don’t ever expect me to actually wear them. I don’t even like shopping for runners or casual shoes, or—gasp—clothes and purses.
When it comes to hair and makeup, I’m next to useless. Part of the reason I don’t wear makeup is because I have so many chemical allergies, I usually just end up getting a headache from it. Another part is simply because I can’t be bothered. I know many, many women would never leave their home without their makeup carefully in place and that’s fine, if it works for them. But why should I have to paint my face if I don’t want to? I can practically hear all the horrified gasps from here. And that doesn’t bother me a bit.
I also confess, I consider going to the hairdresser almost on par with a trip to the dentist—not that I don’t have a lovely hairdresser, I do, I just find the whole process frazzles my nerves. And I can never get my hair to look the same as when I leave the salon. I’m deadly with appliances and limit their use for my own good. I have started using a straightener recently, but only on days when I have a serious attack of the frizzies. Otherwise, it’s wash and wear for me. And if a certain style is all the rage, I refuse to wear my hair that way. I’m anti-trendy in almost every way.
See, I’m definitely missing that girlie gene. No wonder I’m struggling to write a character who epitomizes the term girlie-girl. But it goes even deeper than that. Maggie is a career woman, she loves her job and she loves the big city and although she also loves men, she’s happy being single at this point in her life. I grew up in a city, but I married at twenty, moved to a small town soon after and started a family. By time I was Maggie’s age, I was a stay-at-home mom of two small boys. No experience with a career or city-life to draw on. So I struggle.
I also have a nine-year-old girl in this wip. I’d rather write about a teenage boy any day. I understand boys, I’ve raised three boys and now have two (adorable, bright, inspiring) young grandsons. When I married my husband thirty-five long years ago, he was still pretty much a boy. Yes, I know I was once a nine-year-old girl, but that was a couple of generations ago. Life was very different back then.
I’ll figure it out, I generally do. But fair warning to all the hip, young female urbanites in my life—to borrow the words from Sting—I’ll be watching you. 🙂

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One thought on “Definitely Not a Hip Young Urbanite

  1. Pingback: The Year in Pictures | joyceholmes

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