Friday night was false eyelashes and Prosecco and Saturday morning I was up to my chest in mud. Variety is the spice of life, right?
This marks my FIFTH fall in Des Moines, any I can feel a shift from annual events being yearly outings to them becoming time-honored traditions. It’s weird to not be the new kid anymore, but knowing how to pace myself in the holiday season is proving helpful. (Also, knowing the perfect places to park.)
This year, I threw my name into the proverbial hat to help out at my salon for the East Village Holiday Promenade — the start of the “shop local” winter season. All of the shops stay open late and serve treats and there are fireworks and (at least in the past there have been) carriage rides. It’s a cheerful evening. Typically, I hang out at Ephemera, but this year Salon Spa W was looking for ladies to serve refreshments and chat with guests and, in exchange, they’d do your hair and makeup and give you a gift card and goodie bag. How awesome is that? I realized that this was the perfect situation when, not only did a child ask if we were models or famous, but that by staying in one spot the whole night, I’d be guaranteed to see all of my friends. (Some of whom did not recognize me all glammed up!)
I am a total chair-hopper at Salon W because I know whoever cuts my hair is going to do an amazing job. But golf clap to Lindsay who managed to turn my above-the-shoulder tresses into a classy-meets-sassy updo. Gina was the genius who made me up without making me look super made up. It’s a fine balance and I felt like I looked like the best possible version of myself. I even called Joe down to the salon, telling him he’d probably never see me look this pretty again!
Then on Saturday, we got up to run the Living History Farms Off-Road Race for the fifth time. We started in the back and got stuck behind a bunch of walkers, but we forged through and I felt way better than I have in years past. The balmy but not knife-in-the-lungs-freezing weather definitely helped! We both decorated shirts to say “EVERY YEAR IN SPAIN, THE BULLS GO RUNNING WITH FOREY” (adapted Chuck Norris fact) to show solidarity for the kooky-but-beloved “loincloth guy,” Forey, who was brutally beaten a few weeks before in a bar fight. He runs barefoot and has become an icon of the race.
I was tempted to try to keep my false eyelashes in place for the Saturday morning run. I think they really would have completed this look: