Do I Think This Song Is About Me? Do I? I Think So.

Today as I was helping my recently retired mother move 16 years worth of boxed teaching supplies out of her classroom and into the trunk of her Passat, I thought about the art of packing. I looked and my mother’s boxes. It was obvious that some had been planned out. Markers, crayons, and pastels composed the “Art Supplies” box. The box with felt bats, paper pumpkin cutouts, and fake cobwebs was appropriately labeled “Halloween Stuff.” However there were some boxes that were so random that, if they did have a label, the only fitting description would be “Things That Have Mass.”
However, it was not her method of packing that interested me, but rather it was the process of how she chose each particular item to take along with her.

Watching her pensively trying to decide whether of not to keep hand-drawn paper cuts of scared black cats she had once used for an art project, I thought about what I would pack if I had to leave my room in Oxnard and box up 22 years of my life. What would I bring along with me? What are the things that are most important to me? What could I simply not live without?

I would love to say that my first response to this question was something practical like a Swiss army knife or even something that shows my depth such my favorite classic novel. Needless to say it wasn’t deep at all. My answer was probably the shallowest thing ever. “My curling iron,” I mentally replied without any hesitation. Simply stated I would bring Vanity.

The answer shocked me. I did not realize that I was so vain. “What does this say about me?” I thought. “What does this say about my character, my morals, and my priorities in life?” Even the answer to the question was so high maintenance that I realized within my response I assumed that the place where I would be staying would have a power outlet. “So much for the ‘living on a deserted island’ scenario. My island has to have electricity and a mirror.” I thought.

I never realized how vanity has significantly affected my life. One specific occasion when vanity got the best of me is one morning when I was studying in Rome. I woke up at 7 AM an started to get ready for school when I looked in the mirror only to find that my right eye was red and my eyelids were so puffy and swollen that they were to the point of almost being shut. I looked like a Filipina Quasimodo. Better yet, I looked like someone had gotten a basketball/eyelid pump and attacked my face in the night. I did everything to try and get the swelling to go down including frantically whining to my mother. “What do I do? I look horrible, but I have class. We have site visit, but I can’t go out looking like this! No, I cannot wear sunglasses in a church! It is just weird!” I complained over the phone.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to miss school. Even when I was in first grade and I was sick with a horrible cough, I would beg my mother to let me stay home. Even though I hated missing class my eye was so puffed out that I ditched my Medieval Art class site-visit to the Xeno Chapel.

After they consoled me for about an hour, Nabihah and Niki left for school and I stayed at home dipping the inflamed portion of my face in tea, which was suggested by Niki. As my eyelids rested atop a pool of passion fruit black tea from Castroni, I thought to myself, “I am the embodiment of Vanity and Vanity is not going to school today!” (When I retold this story to my friend Jessie so laughed so hard that to this day she calls me “Vanity.”)

I pictured myself as the lady in the mirror of Bosch’s Vanity panel in his painting of the seven deadly sins. Except instead of adjusting my bonnet, I would be curling my locks with my Turbo Revlon curling/ straightening iron.



The fact that vanity is a sin also made me examine the question “Is vanity really that bad?” When you break down the concept of vanity and put a bit of a positive spin on it, the deadly sin becomes the basic idea of caring about your appearance. This is something that can pertain to many occasions. If you arrive at a job interview wearing an ensemble that is too shabby and less chic it could jeopardize your chances of getting that job. Also, you probably will not get a phone call from your date after the night is over if you go on a blind date and the first impression you give is that you never brush your teeth because your breath reeks and you never cut your toenails because they are so overgrown that your date knows you could climb trees with no problem at all.

I do not know how I developed this need of looking presentable every time I leave the house, but I do not think it is a bad thing. Having a kept appearance is something that makes me happy. I know it sounds like a frivolous thing to worry about, but it feels good when I glance at my reflection in a store window and notice that my eye shadow is still in tact and that it matches my outfit. It sounds shallow, but it’s true.

In about a week I am leaving for the Philippines and I will be staying there for two months. We plan to visit lots of family and hopefully make it to some of the famous, touristy parts too. I am going to start packing in a couple days and you can bet that when I do my beloved curling iron is coming with me because in the Philippines I may quite literally be on a deserted island…Well, a deserted island with an outlet, of course!