Chapter 1: The Dilemma of Public Preening

In a lively pub garden, the scent of honeysuckle mingles with body odor as I sip my wine, observing a woman in a striking red-and-white dress rummaging through her handbag. She pulls out a vibrant lipstick and a compact, prompting me to suddenly wonder about my own appearance. I hadn't thought about it until now, and the fear of melted mascara on my brow bones creeps in. Unlike her, I don't feel comfortable touching up my makeup in public.

As I contemplate if it’s rude to freshen up in front of others, the thought of unsightly eyebrows plagues my mind. Just then, my husband arrives with the menus, oblivious to my beauty crisis.

“The salad sounds good,” he remarks, and I can’t help but picture the lettuce, which reminds me of Groucho Marx’s mustache.

“I think I'll go with spicy paella,” I reply, only to feel a wave of regret wash over me as he raises an eyebrow.

“Really? That’s quite fiery,” he responds, and I can already feel the heat rising within me. The last thing I want is to be left red-faced from a spicy meal.

Meanwhile, the impeccably groomed woman closes her compact and looks stunning.

“How do you feel about grooming in public?” I ask Lee.

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less,” he replies, unfazed.

At the next table, a man lifts his pint, seemingly entranced. I wonder if he’s distracted by a fly or if he’s using his drink as a mirror to check his own appearance. My anxiety about my brows intensifies.

“Would you mind if I checked my mascara?” I ask, hoping for some reassurance.

“But you’ve never worn makeup,” he says, still unaware after thirty years together.

As I observe the confident women around me, I can’t help but feel a bit envious. They glide around like butterflies, looking flawless, while I’m here contemplating my grooming choices.

“I’ve always appreciated how natural you are,” Lee says sweetly, but I can’t help but admit, “I do wear a bit.” He’s already engrossed in his meal, blissfully unaware of my admission.

“Is everything satisfactory?” a server asks, before dabbing gloss on her lips. I can’t help but think how vain we all seem.

The women across the garden exude confidence, but is it really acceptable to preen at the table? In her article for The Cut, Jennifer G. Sullivan delves into the question of public grooming on subways. Some passengers shared stories of odd grooming habits they had witnessed, like one person who used a strand of hair to floss their teeth. Most agreed that grooming is acceptable as long as it doesn’t disturb others, while excessive powdering or perfume was frowned upon.

While I’ve never groomed myself on public transport, I can understand the impulse. If I had kids, I might need to wipe breakfast stains before heading to work or fix my hair if it’s windy. I remember being young and checking my reflection in shop windows before a date, ensuring everything was in place.

I think of the times I’ve left the restroom with toilet paper stuck to my heel or discovered a forgotten bra while rushing to an appointment. Perhaps these moments of grooming in public serve a purpose; no one wants to witness an adult trailing toilet tissue.

Researching this topic led me to a BBC article featuring men who found public grooming, especially makeup application, quite off-putting. One described it as akin to being in someone’s private bathroom, which he found unwelcome.

However, I can’t help but draw comparisons to far worse public offenses, like the stench of takeout or body odor. I’d prefer to sit next to someone moisturizing than endure the smell of someone’s curry.

While Polka Dot’s preening doesn’t bother me, I can see how it could be irritating if I were closer. Her perfume likely overpowers mine. I understand why the server applied lip-gloss; it’s better than having dry lips.

And the man checking himself in his beer glass? At least he seems to care about his appearance.

“You’ve got a little smudge,” Lee says, leaning in with a tissue. I expect him to wipe my brows but instead, he gently taps the side of my mouth.

“Paella,” he chuckle