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One of my favorite things about glitter? Random glitter transfer: when someone unsuspectingly gets sparkled by coming in contact with a glitter freak such as myself. Image from http://fancydressheaven.co.uk/

I love glitter. And by “love” I mean I have a slightly sick obsession. I wear glitter make-up, glitter shoes, glitter accessories, glitter shirts (I do not own a single pair of glitter jeans, but that’s more out of the fact that they only come in kids’ sizes).  I don’t know exactly when the obsession started, but it was probably in Girl Scouts. At the crafts table, liter-sized vats of the stuff shimmered in the cafegymatarium.  By the end of day, the tables, floors and each little crafter was a disco ball.

Now, let’s make no mistake here. For a majority of my young life, I was a tom boy. I wore baggy cargo shorts and over-sized t-shirts and had the most ridiculous collection of bandannas. I think the bandannas were the key sign that someday I would  grow out of the tom boy stage, not because they were feminine in the slightest. They weren’t. But I owned a bandanna in every color imaginable. I’d coordinate them with my outfits. The tan one went with my Old Navy tan and brown camouflage shirt. The navy one with my navy shirt with the bright orange eagle emblazoned on it.  The Marvin the Martian one went with nothing. I really wish I was making this up…

I couldn’t even do my own make-up until after high-school, but the one thing I always had was glitter. I wore purple glitter hair junk for the entirety of 7th grade. In 8th grade, I ran the applicator from a tube of rainbow glitter mascara through my bangs. The only make-up I owned in my four years of high school was a little case of Urban Decay Drifter, a very sparkly purple eye shadow. In my senior year picture, there I am in an ill-fitted black collared shirt with a pea-green tank top underneath, hair a mess, and no make-up except for the burst of purple sparkle on my eye lids.

What’s the point of this? The other night I was washing away the day’s coating of glitter, when I realizes after the suds were splashed away, I could still see myself sparkle in the bathroom light. I exfoliated away the top layer of skin, and the sparkle remained. After years of drenching myself in shimmer, it is now a part of my skin. I’m sure there are some dire health effects associated with this, but except for strippers and drag queens, I really don’t know who else would have this sort of issue.

As a side note, someone told me I’d be a good drag queen if only I’d been a man. I couldn’t help but smile. Those ladies always look so damn fabulous.

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