Hippie Girl Gets Primped and Pimped

"Yeah, that was unexpected and a little weird....but I guess I liked that too. The experience, not so much the taste, though."

"Anyway, why would I do all that? What's my point?"

"....ummm" I'm still a little confused.

"Ok. Let's try it this way. " She continues; "What was the same in all that? What's the common denominator?"

My face tells her I'm still not getting it. She begins brushing out my hair again. It feels nice.

She yells into the other room

"Curt, the mirror, and a wet face cloth please."

He retrieves it. She carefully wipes my face and holds the mirror up in front of me.

I see my reflection. No make-up. No fancy hair. No hippie persona. No whore persona. No fashion model persona. No piss slut persona. No prostitute persona.

I'm really beautiful without the costumes. Just as I am. Inside and out.

I get it.

"Me. The common denominator is me."

"Bingo Einstein"

I look up at Curt. He's as impressed as I am.

"What I've been trying to say since I moved in is that you don't need that foolish earth goddess persona. You're really incredible. Ditch the hippie bullshit. It only makes you look like an unhinged radical. And you can bet that's exactly how the people who oppose you try to define you. Plus you're kinda bitchy and elitist when you're in hippie mode and also a know it all, because you think it gives you street cred. It doesn't. It just makes you an annoying bitch."

I blush with embarrassment.

I look up at Curt. He gives me an "yup" look indicating he agrees.

"Sorry, babe, I hate to have put you through all that but.....um....I guess I really respect you and I believe in all the shit you advocate. You just refused to listen when I tried to tell you normally, so I figured if I could break you down, you might be able to see that the hippie stuff was just a mask, An annoying counter-productive mask."


I reflect; "It's crazy that you thought of that, but I think it might have worked."

"But Courtney, I had no idea that the unintended consequence would be that you'd actually like it"

We all laugh.

She gets serious again.

"You're exactly right about all of the stuff, the local food, the safe sex, the evil corporations, but people might be more receptive to the message if the package weren't so off-putting. Even that goddamned Dan is a fashion accessory to you. It's clear that you don't love him, you just think his hippie persona gives you more cred, and you keep him around as an errand boy."

She backs up a but,

"Um...sorry about that last part, that was just mean of me"

But she's right about Dan too.

She lifts my chin and I look up at her.

"Will you ditch the hippie persona bullshit if I help you with make up, clothes, hair. Girl, an authentic you could take over the world!"

I nod.

I'll comply. This ends up being the biggest surrender of the weekend for me.

I didn't know at that time that in a year and a half, I'd be starting to do just that, with a seat in the state Senate and an eye to a federal office, a book about food politics about to nudge its way onto the Time's non-fiction best seller list, and a handsome successful new boyfriend instead of Dan.

And I also didn't know that the moment I'd realize she was right was when I showed up for that final televised debate with Rick Stevens.

Not with my usual shaggy mop of hair, baggy peasant blouse, hairy pits and Doc Martens, but instead in a smart blue power blazer with matching knee length skirt, pretty cream blouse open at the neck with my perfect hair and make up by Sarah.

The look on his face when I first walked in told the whole story. The only argument he'd ever had against me - that I was a radical unhinged lefty was now gone, and so was his time in office.

And the new me - just plain old me with no costume was on her way to saving the world.