This morning I was shopping for random things like Vitamin D pills, toothpaste, compost bags, 12 boxes of tissues, and socks for the boys. I had quite a cartful of items and after I finished unloading them I noticed the woman in front of me, who was purchasing only three things: two bottles of Midol and a giant bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs. I wished I could take a photo; it was quite a powerful still-life image.

I was flipping through a magazine and I came across one of those weight-loss advertisements, and it really struck me – not for the first time – that those kind of photos are not a true representation of what a person really looks like. In any kind of weight-loss or makeover advertisement, the “before” photo almost always shows a slumped-over, unsmiling person wearing unflattering clothing; in the “after” photo the person has makeup on, a wind machine blowing her hair, and some gorgeous outfit that not only shows off the newly svelte figure, in the case of weight-loss, but is also a flattering cut and colour. This isn’t a news flash, of course, but it does make one think about how one presents oneself to the world.

I am fairly confident that I would not be described, by most people at least, as a bitch. I make exceptions for ex-boyfriends and that ex-friend who ended up ending our friendship over an ex-boyfriend who she then married. But I don’t waste time thinking about those people’s opinions; generally I would say I am a non-bitchy personality, even when I’m the one in need of two bottles of Midol and a giant bag of Cadbury mini-eggs. I do, however, suffer from Bitchy Resting Face Syndrome.

Don’t believe me? That’s because nearly every picture of me in existence is one in which I’m smiling. If I know there’s a camera in the vicinity, I will consciously smile a lot because of BRFS; on the off chance that there’s a non-smiling photo of me, I will delete it if it is in my power to do so. And you know what, smiling is a good thing. People smile at you if you’re smiling. After all, we don’t walk around with the desire to look like our passport photos, do we? At least I don’t. My passport photo is hideous, although it’s not totally the fault of my Bitchy Resting Face. I was also having a Bad Hair Day that day.

Want to see a dramatic makeover? Here is a photo of me that I took Saturday morning, before I even washed my face or brushed my hair, wearing my grey fleece pajamas:

WHO’S THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL. I know, right? I look like I’m 100 years old and haven’t slept in weeks, and I had just woken up from eight and a half hours sleep. Look away, I’m hideous.

This is the difference that a smile (and makeup and hair styling) can make. Now add sunglasses to hide the wrinkles and bright lighting to wash away the forehead lines:

  So there you have it. My beauty advice for the day. Smile. And add a little lipstick, because you never know who you might meet.

Shamelessly gratuitous shot of that one time I met Jim Cuddy.