I’m starting to save money to buy “that” particular mirror that will really conceal my black and white heads, hide the fact that my face looks like an unfinished and abandoned project of the public works and highways whose budget has been already spent. In short, I am saving for a mirror that will lie about how I really look.
Actually, I don’t spend much time in front of the mirror like most females and I don’t need to peer often into my wallet mirror to check if all the colors haven’t mixed and are about to flood in a multi-colored liquid down my chin because I don’t wear make-up or even lipstick, but human as I am, I couldn’t resist glancing at myself when I pass by mirrors everyday at the malls and stores, hallways, sidewalks, churches, bathrooms, even in vehicles.
There are only five mirrors in our house and they are located at strategic places. There are two in the bedroom — one in the dresser and another in the “aparador” . I hate both of them because they are too honest. My nose look so much bigger and wider in the dresser mirror while my face looks too long and pointed in the “aparador” mirror. They display my plain looks all the time, even when I’m too drunk.
Besides, I always cover mirrors with a towel or any cloth when I go to sleep. I don’t relish the idea of waking up from a deep sleep to see an unearthly face staring at me from a mirror. I always do this even when I sleep in hotels or other people’s houses ever since I had read about ghosts and horrendous creatures staring at you from mirrors in the dead of the night. Believe me, my imagination works too powerfully for me to overcome.
I couldn’t say much about the bathroom mirror because it is always filled with soap and shampoo marks you had to wipe it with a cloth before you can see a blurred figure of what looks like a face. The mirror in my parent’s bedroom is so old (acquired a long time ago I can’t exactly remember when) I can hardly recognize my face when I peer into it. Besides, a huge stack of books are piled below it and to insist using that mirror would mean risking an avalanche of old books to come crashing down.
I like the mirror in the kitchen best. It does not lie so much but it also hides the flaws in my face that I want to hide. Alas, this mirror is also my father’s favorite so I always expect to see a white froth especially in the mornings; remnants of his shaving cream.
The most widely-abused but the most-liked is our rectangle portable mirror. It is never in one place and often requires an eternity before it can be located. It’s an omnipresent mirror because you can see it everywhere — in the swing outside, on top of the kitchen sink, under the chairs, beneath the sheets and practically everywhere, but when one needs it, it’s never there.
If mirrors were not discovered, women’s problems wouldn’t have multiplied. Most women have very negative mirrors. Women look this way and that way, finding fault from head-to-toe. A couple of white hairs and they’re old. Two pimples and they’re enumerating hordes of facial creams and astringents available on the market, not to mention considering a plastic surgeon. That’s a woman for you. (Luckily, as I’ve said, I’m not like most women.)
Mirrors help us see our true reflections that are hidden beneath the layers of pretense and masks, fears and inhibitions. Mirrors probably do not lie. All those faces we see when we peer into mirrors, whether flattering or embarrassing are really our faces reflecting the different aspects of our life.