Ooooo gurrrrlll....

A few weeks ago, Meredith Goldstein, the Love Letters advice columnist over at the Boston Globe, did a contest where she asked her readers to email her with the "best/worst compliment you've ever received about your appearance". The prize was a set of tickets to a production of Reasons to be Pretty, which was playing at the Boston Center for the Arts. My friend CC won with her own best-ever insult, and invited me to be her date. The play was pretty good and had a lot of subtext, and I started writing a review the next day, only to find out that what was so easy for me to discuss in person was incredibly hard to put "onto the page" without seeming like a contradictory bunch of hullaballoo.

So, naturally, I instead channeled my energies into rehashing my own "Compliment Highlights". There have been great ones and really terrible ones, running the gamut from, "Your eyes are so mesmerizing they even manage to distract me from your perfect butt" (Andrew, that sweet man) to, "Dude! You make a perfect backboard for straw-wrapper basketball!", in reference to my decolletage (high school was an awkward time for all of us).

The best compliment I've ever received from a random stranger was, though, and I quote, "Oh, Lordy! We got Christina Hendricks in the house!". Normally, I'd assume that this comment was made either a) in jest or b) sarcastically, but it was shouted in that flattering, non-sarcastic appreciative tone that only a flamboyantly gay male hairdresser can muster (or Bruno from Dancing With the Stars, but I digress).

Can't complain. Girlfriend got it goin' on:

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Guido (I swear, that was his legit name) then proceeded to finish up the customer he was working on, scurried over to my own stylist, and spent the rest of my visit peppering me with questions about my hair color history and trying to convince me to let him make me Joan Holloway red. He even loaded me up with coupons and promised me that if I agreed to let him "enhance" my natural color, I wouldn't be sorry.

I didn't... yet. But the thought still tempts me every now and then. I've been red before, ranging from a fabulous auburn to Claire-Danes-My-So-Called-Life-Fire-Engine-Red. Plus, it's true; I totally DO aspire to the whole 1960s/curvy bombshell/Marilyn/Christina look.

If ONLY it were a little longer and therefore work appropriate!!

Yes, I want to lose weight, and part of the reason isn't just health, but vanity. However, I was blessed by my Mama with a natural hourglass figure and a large part of the reason I DON'T want to get all the way back down to my high school weight is that when I was that thin, I still had the hourglass, but it was pinched funny and I looked like I was perpetually stuck as the reflection in a FunHouse mirror. Which would have been awesome if I were 5, but not so cute at the age of 26. I've grown up with my curves (see: backboard comment), and I've grown to love them. If I could ever manage to work them the way Christina Hendricks does, while still remaining healthy and having guns peeking out of my sleeveless work dresses, I'd be one happy lady!

Incidentally, the most backhanded compliment I ever received was, "Oooo, gurrrrrl, you gotta be one a' them plus-size models or somethin'!" from one of the valet guys near my place of work. He kind of looked like Flava Flav, though, so I decided to take it as a good thing and just go with it, and offered a simple, "ummm... thank you?"

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Close second: Andrew's adorable little 3-year old cousin, last Christmas:

Little S, looking very confused because Andrew's sister, E, and I bear a slight resemblance to one another: "Wait a minute. YOU'RE E, but SHE'S E, but YOU'RE E."
Me: "No, S, I'm not E; I'm Caitlin. Remember? I'm friends with Andrew; we had a tea party at Thanksgiving!"
Little S: "OH YEAH! You're LARGE Caitlin!"

The actual "Large Caitlin" from days of yore

Me: "You better thank God in heaven right now that you're only 3."
Little S's sweet 16-year old sister: "OHMIGOD!! I'M SO SORRY! We have another cousin Caitlin who is her age, so she just meant you're the grown-up Caitlin, as opposed to Little Caitlin. OHMIGOD SORRY SORRY SORRY!"

Heh.