Just to be clear, I am not (most emphatically not a fan of so-called "reality tv." I think most of those shows are dumber than idiotic and I'm pretty sure those of you who watch them lose at least 1000 brain cells for every 43 minutes of programming.

Yet, even as I offend half (or more) of my tiny reading audience, I'm confessing that there's a kind of "reality tv" show that attracts me.

You all know about last year's Clean House obsession. At a time in my life when I didn't have money to shop, I realized that my little living space was, nevertheless, crammed so full of stuff that it was sometimes difficult to move around. It was the perfect time to stumble across a television show about people cleaning out the stuff in their lives. The show was--inspiration, if you will. (Although the R.C.'s already existent determination to clean the "stuff" out of the storage unit might have had an impact.)

I spent quite a long time destuffifying last summer. Storage, the shelves in my bedroom, the shelves in the living room, the kitchen cabinets, and--last, but certainly not least--my closet. Ruthlessly.

Of course, once I got a job, I went out and bought more clothes. This time, I tried to buy only things I would actually wear. (I can't say I haven't made mistakes. Just--not as many as I used to make.)

And there's my face. I've talked (more than any of you cared to read) about the number of pots and bottles of various lotions I've purchased over the last few months. Each of them promised some magic transformation in my complexion and, while none of them have produced magic, a couple of them have offered up some noticeable results. So, okay there.

Then, flipping around the channels a week or so ago, the R.C. stumbled across yet another transformational reality show. This once (the name temporarily escapes me) is about throwing out people's entire wardrobes and making them buy all new clothes, then giving them hair and make-up makeovers. So, fashion tips, hair tips, and make-up tips, all in one package!

And, you know, crazy people. Last night, one woman working in the LA film industry said she really didn't think appearances mattered that much at work. She thought her "personality" was more important when meeting people professionally. (Yeah, because that's the Hollywood we all know.)

She and at least one other woman admitted to wearing pajamas out in public. They admitted to wearing them when going out to dinner, making me glad neither of them are friends of mine. One of them bitched because she saw a cotton nightgown she liked and she knew the show wouldn't let her buy it to use as a formal gown for black-tie occasions.

! !

This silly woman claimed that her "style" was light-years ahead of its time and said that in 25 years, wearing your pajamas in public would be the trendy thing and, okay, there's no telling what kind of "fashions" will be "in" for the younger generation from any one year to the next but she was 33!

The R.C. claims that she saw this show once before when channel-surfing and they made over a woman who--brace yourself--ran around in public wearing strap-on fairy wings.

Some of these woman are just so ohmigod stupid that I'm surprised they don't have someone following them around reminding them to breathe.* *

I've seen six episodes of the show, now, and I have to say it's making me look at myself differently.

For instance, I realize I need entirely different make-up than what I've been wearing for the past five years. Not only do the age spots need to be lightened, my pores minimized, and my eyebrows waxed, but I need different colors of eyeliner, some eye shadow, and certainly some different base and I should be wearing crème blush, not powder*, and-- I'm going to have to shop! This is sounding expensive, but maybe I'll look fabulous!

For the first time in years, I'm bemoaning Denver's incredibly relaxed version of "business casual." The women on this show look so comfy, yet so polished and professional in dresses with jackets! And pantsuits! Cropped tops tossed over form-fitting camisoles!

Shoes! One woman started her shopping spree with, like, $1000 worth of shoes! I have three pair of "work shoes" and I noticed this morning that one pair has the uppers separating from the soles. I don't know if that can be fixed but even if it can, these sensible trouser shoes are a far cry from those fun and flirty heels that the women on the show are treating themselves to. And the kicky boots! Sulking. I need some kicky boots.

Sigh. I don't have a lot of girly-girl friends. My friends are, like I've always been, happy in the styles they've already chosen, all of which lean toward the quick-and-easy. And yet, I'm deciding these days that just because I'm getting older, doesn't mean I can't play around with my looks.

I need more girly girl friends.

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* I don't wear all of that every day. I wear some make-up to the office every day, but I don't wear all of that every day. Just so you know.

It sort of depends on how ugly I am when I wake up each morning, you know? Some days, my face is one, big cry for help.

* * One woman announced that she was "a 7 or an 8." Honestly? She was a three--maybe a four on a good day, when they started working with her. After they finished, she was--in certain outfits and from certain angles--a six. Which still made her look incredibly more intelligent and professional than she was at the start.

I hadn't thought about "the scale" in years and years.

Removed: Remarkably rude digression about "the scale."

On a 10-point scale, a "5" should be average, but that's not how I've heard people (in this country) use it. I don't think I've talked about "the scale" with many people who didn't think they were at least a 7. It's like--people automatically delete the 1-5 part of the range.

People simultaneously say they look "ok" and call themselves a "7" and that only makes sense if they're really using a 6-10 scale, instead of a 1-10 scale.

1 - 5 = so ugly they're invisible
6 = bleah
7 = average
8 = above average
9 = attractive
10 = gorgeous

And, interestingly, the fours and fives I've known who called themselves sevens? Set the bar a lot lower for what constitutes a "10." It's like there's some kind of threshold--beyond which, they simply don't connect. Like there are separate "scales" and people somehow only "see" the others in their own scale. That may be partly what "not my type" is all about?

(At least, for women. I've heard a lot of women dismiss some incredibly attractive man as "too perfect." I wonder if biology restricts our choices to the possible--even if sometimes it's only the remotely possible?) (Men, on the other hand, almost all seem to think they "deserve" a supermodel or a movie star. They're violently attracted to women to whom they have nothing to offer.) (Although, not so much "women" as some vague ideal of femaleness they think the aforesaid supermodels and/or actresses represent.)

(I could offer another digression on the idea of how, as female sexuality becomes more acceptable to our society, women are starting to mimic men in their desire to win a mate far outside their "scale" but I suspect none of you are more bored with the topic than I am at this point. I'm sure there's biology involved in all of it, though. And psychology. And sociology.)

How do I get off on these weird tangents? All I really sat down to say today is that I have a desperate need for some plum-colored eyeliner. It could change my life!