Part 9 - Egypt Part 2

I had previously noticed on the pricelist that they listed face threading for men. It sounded more than a little painful, but after some 'umming and erring', I decided to give it a try. On Monday Sabah had done a small trial but decided that I needed to go another day without shaving to get the stubble long enough for the threads to grip. On Tuesday, I discovered the hard way that my initial thoughts about the pain level were correct!! plus Sabah was finding it very hard going, so eventually we mutually agreed to give up on it!

The restaurant table was booked for 8pm and the beauty treatments for 5pm. Sabah wasn't there but Ayesha was, to do my makeup first. “You want it natural look?”. “Yes please” To start with everything was fine, foundation and powder, etc, to give a nice even natural look, all over. Then she started on my eyes, again fairly natural/neutral beige eyeshadow. Next, some colour applied to my eyebrows, which had by now, as promised, toned down to an acceptable level. Then some lipstick, this was bit darker than I would have chosen, but I wasn't too worried about that. This was when things began to go a wee bit wrong, she went round and round, between skin, eyes, eyebrows, lips, adding more and more colour and getting less and less natural. Unfortunately, she then finished off with one of my pet hates, by drawing a lip bow on the skin above the top lip line.

The overall effect was amazing though. My wife said she loved it and the girls in the salon kept looking at me and making “ Oooh!“ noises. Ayesha had done a fantastic job if I had been going out 'dressed' for dinner or to a club, but totally impossible for a male diner in a 5-star restaurant which won't allow men to even enter without wearing a jacket!
Meanwhile, the hairdresser was working on my wife, and also doing an incredible job and her hair looked absolutely fantastic. Her makeup was also good, but like my own, the lips were too dark and the eyebrows perhaps a bit heavy. I think the problem is that Ayesha was applying the same colours that she would use for an Egyptian client and not making allowances for our paler complexions. Anyway, we left the salon and headed for our room as fast as we could and avoiding everyone. Once in the room, I tried to remove the excess colour from just my brows, eyelids and lips, but finally had to admit defeat and reluctantly took it all off, unfortunately.

Overall, it was the most unexpected, fantastic, wonderful, and frequently surreal, week of my life. Egypt is one of the last countries we would have expected to accept a man in a beauty parlour, and to find that the entire staff totally accepted and worked on me, was mind blowing. What also surprised me was that other hotel guests either didn't notice or perhaps didn't care.

Two nights before we left, I asked my wife about my eyebrows and she said they looked great and I should keep them like that - result!
The morning of our departure I asked her for her nail varnish remover but she said, "No, keep it on" - Slightly scary but result No.2.

The flight home was fine although I was VERY conscious of my painted nails, not to mention my eyebrows and lashes. Next day we need to go domestic shopping, as you do after a holiday, and ended up in Boots ( a big retail pharmacy chain, for those who don't know it). We made a beeline for the eyebrow/lash colour section and bought a colourant.
The next day my wife had a pre-booked appointment at the dentist. We know the receptionists quite well so it was all holiday chat whilst we waited and I was more than a little embarrassed when she told them all about everything and then ended up by insisting that I show them my nails.

However... and there is always one of those... a few weeks later she burst my bubble big time with a major row, telling me that I wasn't a woman ( which I know and have always said ) and so on, and so on. This was the start of a pattern; she'd buy me things she thought I'd like and then go mad if I tried wearing them.

I did write a lot more at this point and then not post it, because it sounded very whingey and critical of my wife. She does have some unforgiving traits which are baggage from a very abusive first marriage, which had itself followed a very unusual childhood upbringing, and which we both just have to live with. Nevertheless, this boom and bust way of living had a major emotional effect on me as well, and about 3 or 4 years ago I accepted the inevitable and put Anne back in her box yet again, probably for the last time. I still have two large wardrobes full of clothes and shoes ( most of which my wife bought for me, including Louboutin shoes that I've never worn!) and I 'know' that I can put them on if I need to, so I don't actually have to, plus I wear androgenous clothes most of the time anyway - ladies jeans, polo shirts, ladies undies, and those things allow me to survive day to day.
This journey through life has taught me a lot about myself and I know and now understand that, as the song says, "I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses..."