self-esteem ii

on serums and creams and other "fancy" things

This year has been a bit of a personal odyssey — I have been trying to uncover myself. I am four years deep into motherhood now, and feeling more and more like I have gotten my bearings. I am remembering myself, something like that, in the midst of remembering everyone else in the house all the time. In service of this self-remembering, I have been inviting just a few new things in. New clothes, new movement practice, new rituals of care. It is a little obvious, maybe even a little superficial, to turn to such quintessential “self care” categories at such a time as this. But, hey, it’s working! If the goal is self-esteem, if that’s what I was lacking and needing to regain my grip on, then these things are meaningful ways in. I suppose that is why they are quintessential. Like when you’re feeling low and then you drink some water and stand in the sun and, sheesh, you feel better of all things! The things that work, work. Not entirely. But it moves the needle at least.

my little collection of lotions and potions

Before this, I really had not known the value of wearing a light and fine scent in a “beauty milk” in one’s damp hair, or lightly spritzing a new perfume after choosing the day’s clothes. I fear I now understand something new and strangely fundamental about womanhood, or probably just personhood. That extra something that makes all the difference. I had prided myself for years on keeping my personal care routine shockingly minimal. I stopped wearing makeup somewhere in the middle of college, leaving my high school cosmetics to slowly expire in the medicine cabinet, only pulled out again for weddings and holidays when I wanted to “look nice,” whatever that means. I would occasionally buy a tinted lip balm at target — but that’s really truly it. I have not stepped foot into a Sephora in years! I say all of this just to illustrate that none of this was on my radar at all. Fancy clothes were extremely on my radar (I’m looking at you, peak slow fashion of the 2010’s), but fancy skincare and makeup was firmly somewhere outside my purview.

But then, I had a baby, I turned thirty, I had another baby, and I felt my sense of self and my actual physical complexion with it slipping into a new dark place. My skin looked dull, my smile lines were beginning to look etched in, my hair — I don’t even know about my hair — and I just felt bad. Skincare, I thought! I had probably watched ten too many “get ready with me” videos on social media at that point. But “skincare” beckoned like a magical fairy who would wave her magic wand and make me both feel and look better.

Small things make a big difference when it comes to self-esteem. And objects are not unimportant — I have to remind myself of this when I feel shame about wanting something new. Late-stage capitalism is inhumane, but it is deeply human to want things, collect things, own and cherish and use things. In the past, one’s possessions were fewer, often handmade, given, found, traded, or purchased at great cost. One’s beautiful smelling potion may have been made from the summer’s garden roses and the kitchen’s big jug of oil — but it’s the same. We don’t need a million of these things, we don’t need new fancy things all the time, but having the fancy things in the first place is a pleasure that I think is worth seeking out and making space for in one’s life. The cherished blue wool cardigan worn weekly at the very least, the modest but mighty skincare routine, the signature scent, the lip stain used until the last drop, and the christmas gift that’s a bit of a splurge — it all belongs and it’s all actually pretty meaningful in the fabric of one’s days. The smells alone are worth the money, at least for me. Scent had been a lost sense for me for many years. I feel it coming back to me as a way to take care of myself, smelling beautiful things, feeling the air around me gently infused with something special.

My husband gave me an extravagant gift this Christmas. I’m not going to link it because I do NOT want to know how much it cost — but it’s a makeup + skincare advent calendar from Liberty London. I was very surprised by this. It was a bit of an out-of-character gift. But he had been noticing me change, saw me applying my small assortment of Good Molecules skincare. He wanted to give me some fancy things, knew I would never buy them for myself. That’s the mark of a good gift, my friends. The thing that surprises and delights you. The slight elevation, to lift you out of the days. The first little drawer I opened contained a small vial of perfume that smelled so strange and beautiful, so “grown up” was the first thing I thought. I realized I had never in my adult life worn perfume. And maybe I wanted to! I’ve worn it many days since, and felt very good. Eye cream, hand lotion, a stunning rose serum. New little lifts. And after all these advent calendar things are used up, maybe I will re-purchase one or two of the things I have especially liked. And go on with my life, smelling that much better. It’s as simple as that, I guess.

this liberty london advent calendar is stunning on every level

But, to feel good is meaningful. That’s the lesson I am learning, I think. To choose things, take up just the right amount of space. These small delights go far. I felt fine, or even good, about maintaining my appearance with the barest of the bare minimum in my twenties, but that isn’t cutting it anymore. I don’t want to be schlubby! So some small efforts in the direction of self-esteem. The blue wool, the signature scent, the lip stain, the everyday jewels, gentle resistance training three mornings a week. In some ways, it feels like the project of my thirties to lean into these signature things, and make space for that true self-esteem. Regarding myself highly, taking true care. What I do for my children, I should do for myself too. The balanced meal, the clothes that fit, the rough play, the resting time, the learning and laughing, the books, and nightly bath with lotion afterward, with treats and new “toys,” every once in a while. So simple! Is that all it takes for the “good” life? The things we need as children? My dearest teacher used to say “treat yourself like a gifted child.” I think it’s really time to take that advice. And it might mean I get to smell much nicer and have very soft hair.

Everything in moderation. Though I want to buy a million beautiful sweaters, I do not. Same with potions and serums and lotions. I have the literal boundary of my budget to rein me in — but also I don’t want too many of anything. Because one really can be “spoiled” by too much. A fancy thing becomes not special anymore if everything is fancy, if you own a dozen different versions of the fancy thing. No, I want just a little, just enough. My little treats, and my ordinary life. I feel extraordinarily lucky, as it is. And the added flash of joy that the “beauty milk” sprayed in my hair brings, the rose serum spread across the cheeks in the spare moment? That’s icing on the cake. Nothing is perfect, but life is good. Here I am, inside the overstimulation and exhaustion, the letting a little too much screen time slide and the toy clutter everywhere because the whole house is a playroom, the bickering kids, the merry-go-round of meals to be made and then dishes to do. This is my only life, my only body, my only soul. Let it have a sweet scent. Let it go forth in joy.

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I wrote a “Part One” of this essay about postpartum dressing, read it here.

Read my books, Broken Waters, There is a Future, and How To Sew Clothes.

Check out my zines, all written during my first year postpartum with my second baby.

And I love to hear from you! Leave a comment to share a thought, or send me an email in reply to this one!

xoxo, hope you have some beautiful smells and little treats to lift you too. self-esteem! for everyone!