As I'm sure you know, today is Valentine's Day. Like many women in this country, I will be spending it alone. I'm not complaining. I actually enjoy the freedom that the single life affords me and look forward to picking out my very own box of chocolates at CVS later this afternoon. That being said, on this day of all days, I want to feel as though singleness is my choice and that if I really wanted to be in a relationship there would be no shortage of eager, adoring suitors.
This is where my concerns arise. Before leaving the house each morning, I, like most women, spend time in front of my bathroom mirror - washing my face, putting on make-up, you know the drill. My bathroom, like countless others, is equipped with round 60-watt bulbs that emit a soft, white light. On days when I choose to put a little effort into my appearance, I am able to gaze proudly into that square mirror before leaving the house and say to myself, "Rachel, on a scale of 1 to 10, you are a solid 7.5." One spritz of perfume later, and I'm sauntering out into the crowded city streets with my head held high.
This carefree confidence usually lasts until about 11am when "nature calls" and I am prompted to stop by the ladies' room in our office. Unlike my bathroom at home, this facility relies on the rather harsh, unflattering light of fluorescent bulbs... and the result is positively horrifying. What happened to the attractive 24-year-old that left for work this morning? Where did all of those crags and blotches on her face come from? Why are her teeth so yellow? Who electrocuted her hair?! And all of a sudden, I begin to wonder how my co-workers can even tolerate my presence. Like Medusa, I could turn even brave men to stone (or at least celibacy). That's the point in the day when my hair goes up and my self-esteem goes down. All because of the lights which you, so flippantly, chose to install.
I understand the need for cost-efficiency. I understand that these particular bulbs provide more light for longer for less money. But can you really put a price on happiness? On behalf of all women everywhere who simply want to feel desirable as they eat their drugstore chocolates and adjust the order of their Netflix queue, please please please consider switching to a less abrasive bulb.
Yours in pursuit of beauty,