Haircuts, work clothes and the end of Covid restrictions
Who knows what fresh hell might soon beset us in the reality show known as Australia’s Got Covid?
At time of writing, the end of NSW lockdown looms. But five days is a long time in politics, as last week’s NSW state government disruptions attest.
Who knows what fresh hell might soon beset us in the reality show known as Australia’s Got Covid?
In other breaking news, I have secured a hair appointment for mid-October. Salons are fielding zillions of calls from badger-striped desperados like me. Last time I had a haircut could have been 15 months or five weeks ago; it is impossible to recall which. Meanwhile I must spray the offending white bits with L’Oreal Magic Retouch in preparation for public appearances. This results in clownish orange stripes and side-wings that flare like the fins of a Yank tank two-tone convertible. I may also have grown a moustache.
Then there’s the outdoor wardrobe, the one we’ll need for a world with mirrors. Pyjamas just won’t cut it, especially my faves with unmovable caramel iso-cream stains on the front. It’s a big step, and a deep intake of breath, before trying on pre-Covid outfits, the ones that fitted before what looks like an inflated swimming ring took up residence, without notification, around my waist and hips.
I imagine straining zippers and bursting buttons and people around me fainting in the wake of a heady smell of mothballs. If I hold in my stomach too long, will pressure build and my facemask blow clean away. Do my shoes and earrings, or even my feet and ears, match. If I clench my new double chin too tightly will I develop lockjaw.
Oh heck, and what about renewing the art of conversation in real life. Full makeup, intense interest in everyone’s stories, hoping I can stay awake. Making eye contact with a barista who’s not a Nespresso machine and being forced into choices. You look like a camel-milk cappuccino, half froth, kinda gal, Susan!
I know I’ll want to put my head back under the duvet. Try not to pine for the television couch and pottering aimlessly in the gardening and reading novels in daylight hours. Daily walks in the bush and on the beach to be replaced by mad urban dashes, crowded commuter car parks, the gnawing reality that it’s time for a dental appointment, an eye check-up, an exercise class.
All of us in lockdown scenarios must have missed freedoms and families, suffered financial hardship, gone near-crazy with worry, longed for travel, but I wonder if the great release will be as instantly joyous and uncomplicated as we imagine. It’s not just our wardrobes and grooming that may require fine-tuning.