Monday I woke up and looked at mirrors a minimal amount of times in order to make myself a presentable teacher. In the elevator, I glanced at my reflection once, and then studiously looked at the floor. This type of behaviour went on for the rest of the day. It was an interesting experiment. Like Aubrey, I found I knew exactly where I would be able to catch a glimpse of myself in the shops I passed, and other paths I frequented. For the most part, I did reletively well, and didn't sneak all that many peaks at myself.
Tuesday did not go so well. Aubs dyed my hair Monday night, and while I admired the new colour while getting ready in the morning, I was determind to adhere to the mirror challenge once again.
To make a long story short, I failed miserably, my downfall being born of a comment from a kindy kid: "Tee-cherr! Hair. Big."
I hate my hair at the best of times (it's thick and there's a lot of it, so it has a tendency to be boofy and frizzy), and am pretty self-concious about it. Even though I checked my appearance after the class (and it wasn't that bad, really), Pearl's comment did me in. For the rest of the day I studied my appearance at every opportunity.
And I found I'd liked myself better on Monday. I liked having only a vague idea of my appearance. I realised on Tueday just how critical our sub-conscience self-evaluation can be as we catch brief (and sometimes distorted) glipses of ourselves throughout the day. Of course, it's not always critical; sometimes it's a nice self-esteem boost - but usually (for me, at least), that boost only comes when I already feel good about the way I look. It can happen that the more I study my appearance, the more I notice the things I dislike.
With these thoughts in mind, today (Wednesday) has been somewhat of a better day. Although I made thouroughly sure that my hair was completely de-boofed before I left the house this morning (ok, so I've checked it via touch and occasional stolen glances), and making allowances for checking my technique - a good excuse, I know - in the mirrors at the gym, I have kept my gaze mostly averted from the masses of mirrors, windows, computer screens and elevator doors that my paths cross (or, to put it more accurately: run parrallel to.)
And I feel pretty good.
Captain Anti-Mirror, who wonders if it may be Bob answering when I say 'Mirror, mirror on the wall: Do I look ok today?'