Beauty and the bathroom

Beauty and the bathroom -

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on a recent Saturday night after an elbow my way through a crowded nightclub, I came to the ladies room to discover that it too, was absolutely packed. Packed to the gills with women from the same full-bladdered. So I waited. And waited. After five minutes, and not one person had emerged from a stall, I started to notice that nobody else was even eyeing the doors closed. Everyone was crowded around the four huge mirrors, and those who could not come closer trying to earn a few extra inches on their platforms, standing on tiptoe to see their reflections. Tentatively, I pushed the door of the nearest cab, and, of course, it was vacant. I did not test all other stands, but less than a stomach bug requiring extensive time on the john had swept the nightclub that night, it's safe to say that they were empty . When I did, I went out and measured the mirrors, each flanked by a grooming ladies phalanx five deep body, and decided to try to check my makeup or adjusting my ponytail was not worth the trouble. I shook some hand sanitizer and left. And this frenzy of thoughts led me to do some thinking of my own.

Now, I may be biased, because until recently, I was living in San Francisco, a city ostentatious "non-image-conscious," which, for better or for worse, recognizes not that judgments based aspect exist. Many girls will take pride in a kind of anti-vanity extraordinarily vain prohibits the obvious attention to be paid to her appearance. taking up residence by the mirror of the ladies room at a bar San Francisco brand you a stranger. in fact, I can think of five bars at a time when the bathroom mirrors were covered by graffiti or do not exist outright So, yes, I have just extreme. But I still think it's safe to note that among the socially active female population of Jakarta, physical appearance is a very big deal.

of course, this personal aesthetic attention seems not only at night, I had a similar experience a few weeks ago at brunch, finding myself in the bathroom wearing flip flops and shorts in the middle of a crowd of sneakers and kitten heels and tailored cocktail dresses. But at night, it acquires a different hue, changes in meaning.

weekend nights when the bars and clubs pay money in promoting events that bring crowds of people, saturating the air with the hip-gyrating music and pumping a steady flow of alcohol in everyone especially Nighttime-the-bloodstreams then the ritual of human mating begins. Perky eyelashes curled with attention and fine needle heels and tumbling curls perfectly glossy, during the day, they imply a pride in her appearance, the desire to be classy, ​​respect for the institution attended; or, less generously, they reflect a state-conscience, the need to see the ease manifested in self-decoration, to impress (female) friends and strangers (women). But this rarely glamorous day suggests seduction.

The night, however, with dim lights and Amalgam gender bodies crowded dance floors, each stroke of lipstick and glitter sprinkled collarbone and neck ear-grazing loop becomes sexual. Maybe I'm projecting again, maybe this nightly ritual of looking good and going out and hooking is not part of the culture here. But given the conversations I've had here, and the reasons that I have observed in other countries, and compulsions evolutionary crushing of the human being, I have to believe I'm at least partly right.

But what is strange to me not quite acclimated to Jakarta, this preparation is that beauty does not appear to be a means to an end but an end in itself. I do not see couples pairing off and do on the dance floors or exchanging numbers with cute new perspectives; but I see mirrors mass pilgrimages and reapplications of lip gloss and micro-adjustments to necklines and hems and rimmed eyes. Arriving at the club or lounge in which a young girl has spent so much time preparing, instead of indulging in the experience, preparation seems to continue indefinitely. And the guys in the club, outside the bathroom-the guy who, I suppose, are the target audience for this precaution applied beauty remains largely ignored, the BBN pins are not exchanged, the flirtation remain unspoken.

I have not been here long enough and I know almost enough of Indonesian culture to begin to understand the reasons for this trend, but I can not help to make inferences. I can not help thinking that it must be somehow related to the disorder-out celebrity cleavage sandwiched between segments of style advice on E! New. I can not help thinking that there must be a link with what my Australian friend told me about his experiences with dating in Jakarta: "It's easy to get a date, but it is as much girls do not want to connect or stay in touch or do anything during the day. It's like they just want to go out to be seen or something. "

Yet when a girl is in the bathroom, leaning over a sink applying mascara on the face that is already more perfect than one in a magazine surrounded by a company of other women whose eyes are fixed on their own face, it is all but seen. But maybe this is what the mirror is.

for my part, I'm just glad I must not wait to pee.

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