Coco Me Pretty

I have never covered up my participation in watching some pretty awful reality television. Shows with everyday people cavorting around in front of a camera, believing the world wants what they are selling. I have done Jersey Shore, The Girls Next Door and of course, The Kardashians, lucky enough to somehow avoid all the spin offs. I have rocked it to every season of Rock of Love, both on and off the bus, don't even get me started on My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and I will even cop to that Pretty Wild debauchery that was on for about half a season and never got renewed. So when commercials started popping up for Ice Loves Coco I had to set my DVR to see if it was worthy of my viewing pleasure. Ice is Ice-T, the infamous pimp-turned-rapper, well known for rapping about killing cops in the early 90's only to wind up playing a detective on Law & Order SVU a decade later. Coco is a model with a famously large derriere and a bust to match. With a 23" waist in between. They are married with one fur-baby. And after spending a half-hour in Ice and Coco world I was charmed. It was not the puppy Spartacus, although the adorable bull dog is worth the whole experience alone. And no, it was not Ice. It was her, Coco.

Bleached blonde extensions and spray tanned orange with long fake nails. More makeup than even I would wear on my way to work the cosmetics counter. Her home is a "heels only" zone. No flat shoes allowed. Clothes hugging her 39DD top and 40" bottom like a latex outfit that was formed and dried around the curves of her figure. She is ditsy and appearance-obsessed, but does seem to come off as a genuinely nice person, if they still exist in celebrity land today. She is somewhat like a puppy or kitten. If you wave something in front of her she will get all excited and pounce. But what really, you might be thinking, is the true attraction here? And after my 3rd episode I was finally able to put my finger on it. She is a blaring reminder that there is no shame in looking good. That a woman taking pride in her appearance can be a source of power and confidence. And that I have become very complacent with my outward identity as of late.

I remember how hard I struggled to keep a normal, regular schedule when I first went out on disability in 2006. I set my alarm for 8am and put makeup on every day, despite the fact I could barely use my right arm and hand. I got in bed every night at 10pm and shunned napping because I was struggling so hard to sleep at night. And really, I was only out for a month and needed to stay on a regular schedule, right? Keep up appearances, even if I never left my house? Well that's a funny one because that...girl...and this woman writing this today have been separated for many, many miles. Far too long. I can't even remember what it felt like to be her anymore, the hard knocks of life scaring my psyche and consuming my reality in the years that span between us. But I am slowly adding things back to my life. Hoping with all hope that if I am cautious I can avoid a major flare and subsequent backslide in managing Fibromyalgia. And my first focus was regular exercise. Now that it is a regular, non-negotiable part of my life, its on to the next challenge. Gettin' pretty. I will set my sights toward primping and puffing everyday, even if it is just to sit behind the computer in my office all day by myself. Because I know the next step after that will be leaving my house on a regular basis, out to mingle with the world at large. Return to my place in society. One thing at a time, my dear Fibrates. Pacing, patience and perserverance.

Thanks for joining,

Leah