Monday, June 13, 2011

The Hall Of Mirrors







"The Hall of Mirrors is a traditional attraction at carnivals...The basic concept behind a hall of mirrors is to be a maze-like puzzle. In addition to the maze, participants are also given mirrors as obstacles, and glass panes to parts of the maze they cannot yet get to. Sometimes the mirrors may be distorted because of different curves, convex, or concave in the glass to give the participants unusual and confusing reflections of themselves." wikiup


Do women actually want to tour the hall of mirrors, anymore? I remember the days when a size 8 was considered skinny. These days, women starve themselves to become a 2. Young women's smaller sizes now dip into the minus numbers. I don't care how much fun it is to find your way out of a maze or to see yourself hundreds of times from every angle. Unless you're a size 0 or less, ride the merry-go-round instead.


We all have an idea of what we look like before we enter The Hall Of Mirrors. And we know that the curvy mirrors should make us laugh. I don't know about you but when I look into any mirror, I believe that it's telling me the truth. Even if there is a BIG sign with an HUGE arrow pointing at the curvy mirror that says, "NOT REALLY YOU, ROBBI. YOU'RE NOT FAT." I believe otherwise. Signs lie. Mirrors don't. Ask around.


The only things that I could possibly compare my experience in The Hall Of Mirrors with are the Victoria's Secret dressing rooms. The combination of the pounding heat from the too-bright lights juxtaposed with the unmistakably bad mirrors--it's a nightmare. If you didn't hate your body before you went into the VSDR cubicle, you will when you come out. And for Godssake, don't look in the mirror behind you. 
 
I've said this once and I'll say it again, DO NOT LOOK IN THE BACK MIRROR at Vicky's Secret, no matter how much your best friend offers to pay you. 


If your feeling down, bloated or simply in a mood to look at your backside in a mirror, get yourself to Macy's. These, ladies, are the good mirrors. Why Victoria's Secret has to rub your nose in your cellulite, I don't know. I'm there to buy something to look hot in, instead, I end up feeling like an rhinoceros in a mouse's bikini.


It's not difficult to look good in a Macy's mirror. I've seen women line up to get in. I've seen women drag other's out to make a place for themselves (these are usually the PMS group.) I've seen women sneak lovers in, just to look hot during love-making. Trampling? It's happened. Women don't just shop at Macy's; they recharge.


I think a carnival ride ticket costs about $1.00 a piece. Usually, each ride calls for all your tickets except for one--no matter how many you buy. Six to ten may be the minimum for a ride, I'm not sure. But this I am sure of, I'm not about to pay $10.00 to enter The Hall. Seriously. Hell, I wouldn't go in for free.


I base this decision from the only time I did go into The Hall. I lost my innocence there--hey, hey, hey! I meant, I used to think I looked pretty damn hot, pre-hall.( FYI, I lost the other innocence on spring break in Miami.)


"Mom, look how much fatter you look." Mirror 2. The Hall of Mirrors.


"How much fatter? Are you saying I'm fat?" I squawk.


The carnie at the entrance must have heard Bri because, out of the blue, he calls to me, "You ain't fat, baby."


"Yeah, thanks for that," I call back. Teeth or no teeth, he did compliment me.


I peer at my reflection. Size 8. I looked remarkably huge. "This is fucking unbelievable! I'm as big as a pregnant cow." I yell loud enough for anyone in or near The Hall to hear. Laughter echos throughout the hall, ricocheting from mirror to mirror. Everyone's having a big, fucking laugh. They don't know that a size 8 used to mean you were hot. 


"Mom! You said fuck," Four year-old Nicky says.


"I made a mistake. Don't you guys use that word."


"But you said it,mom." his identical twin, Bri, adds.


"I'm a grown up," I snap. I broke at mirror 2. I wanted out immediately.  "Merry-Go-Round anybody?" 


"Yeah! Let's go, Mom!"


"Let's make a hand chain and see how fast we can get through the maze. It's a race."  


We grab hands; I stare at the floor as the boys lead me out.




Marilyn Monroe drops to the floor, aghast, upon seeing herself in the curvy mirror.


Later that day, Daddy comes home. 

"Bri and Nicky went on the kiddie roller coaster today, all by themselves." I say, proudly.


"Wow!" Daddy says, enthusiastically. He likes these sorts of macho milestones. "That's so great. You guys are becoming so grown up. Did you have a good time at the carnival?"


For a moment, the room fell silent. Both boys were deep in thought. I had no idea why.


"We had a great time!" Bri says nonchalantly and looks at Nicky.


"Yeah, and The Hall Of Mirrors was fucking unbelievable." 


And out the door, my oh-so-not-grown-up twins ran.

3 comments:

Krystal Wade said...

Oh, that's so funny. Stupid mirrors. This reminds me of when my son said the s word. ;-) Love your posts.

Paige W. Pendleton said...

Brilliant! All about the good mirror!

Amy said...

Great Post! :)

TAG! YOU'RE IT! Robbie, I wanted to let you know that I tagged you on my blog - come on over and see what it's all about!