Hurray! I'm Vain Again

Don't worry; before you assume I'm about to go into a pseudo-intellectual rant about the modern world and beauty standards, or worse create a snide aside about other women who like to look good, please understand that I'm serious. Vanity might be a vice and while focussing on how you look too heavily can lead to disaster, I'm here to argue that a little bit of vanity is a healthy thing.

Of course, I can only go by my own experience. You see, I'm depressed. Not currently, not right this second, but in an over-arching, bone deep, chronic condition that requires constant medicating kind of way. And people will tell you that depression is invisible, that its internal, that it's all about what's going on in the head.

That's not untrue, of course. The symptoms of depression include:

• Sadness

• Anhedonia

• Trouble focussing

• Over or under sleeping

• Over or under eating

• Feelings of guilt

• Anxiety

• Irritability and temper

• Lack of motivation

• Loss of desire to socialise or pursue hobbies

The list goes on and on and on... And I'd add 'not giving a shit how you look' to that list. At least for me, personally. Because, yes, depression has no single physical marker. No mark or blemish or lump or wound... But there are signs.

"This is What Depression Looks Like"

If you've ever seen this sentence on TikTok, Instagram, or any other social media platform there's a chance you may already be cringing. I know, I know; too many videos of people trying too hard to be empathetic and display the signs for 'informative' purposes...

And too many videos that are alarmingly, awfully authentic from people who look... tired and completely beyond caring about almost anything. Because that, for me, is the one visible sign of depression that does carry over from person to person; the exhaustion, the lack of energy. The sense that you are looking at a person who probably wouldn't even panic if the building they're in caught fire.

If I wrote a checklist for what depression looks like it would be this;

• Wears the same clothes over and over, regardless of whether they're clean enough (its just too much hassle to think about outfits)

• Contains hair in the most functional style, always (Cant even think about styling right now)

• Dull skin, greasy hair, less than pristine teeth (who bothers with rigorous self cleaning when survival is a chore?)

• Oversized clothes (can't hate my body if its hidden)

This is just what you can see and they don't apply universally... But I've met enough depressed women in group therapy to know it applies often enough to not be discounted.

And sure these things can also carry over to other issues. Stress, burnout, grief, pain, chronic physical illnesses, a lack of time or ability to prioritise self care. All of these things can put how we look, and often how we feel about how we look, on the back burner. Because, and this is important I know, appearance never takes priority over survival or preservation of the people we love and lives we build.

But that's kind of the point I'm making.

It's the Canary in the Coal Mine

As I've gotten older I've started to think of my desire to fancy myself up, my vanity if you will, as the proverbial canary in the coal mine; when it dies, I know the environment isn't conducive to a long lifespan.

When I stop caring about breakouts and eye bags and broken, jagged nails and I lose the desire to put on earrings and the idea of washing and moisturising my face, let alone putting on some mascara, feels like an untenable intrusion on my wallowing time...

Well...

That's not a good sign.

Vanity Takes Energy

For me, the first sign a depressive episode is lifting isn't sleeping better or even feeling better. It's the sudden awareness of my appearance. The creeping motivation to present myself 'properly' - the result of a Church of Scotland upbringing most likely. The belief that one must be presentable, clean, tidy, and, if at all possible, well turned out.

The moment I think about tidying my cuticles, doing my nails, styling my hair... That's the sign that dawn is breaking. Like most people I have a certain degree of natural vanity, and depression robs me of it when it hits.

When in the pits we have to focus on digging out, after all, and a manicure can get in the way of that. But when sunlight hits the skin and the rubber hits the road, when we boil it down to the nitty gritty of it all... I like to look good. As good as I can.

And despite what society and movies and comics and stereotypes tell me, I don't feel ashamed of that. The energy I put into hair styles and jewelry and doing my nails and maintaining a skincare routine... It's me. It's for me and I've decided it's not a sin. It's not a flaw.... In short I've decided that vanity, like most vices, is fine in moderation.

So, I'm happy to announce that I'm becoming vain again (selfie included as proof). I put on earrings yesterday. I got my hair done last week... And at the weekend I may go get my nails done.

I think I'll get big long ones, pink ones. Maybe with a bit of glitter. Because I have the energy, and I'm tired of pretending I don't like pink.

And I hope you all have the energy to be a little vain too, if that's your thing, because everyone deserves to feel good in their skin.