Three things I avoid

Female travelers are always a little more wary and cautious, not only for the obvious safety concerns. We simply have extra needs that make things sometimes more difficult. But we persevere in the name of adventure. Out of necessity and with only one horrifying brick-shaped mistake, I have now mastered the feminine hygiene aisle without being able to read a label. I have braved the dichotomous and adjacent stores of One-Size-Fits-Slut and Haredi-Humble to buy new tops. I feel pretty confident about getting around and getting what I need these days. Unfortunately there are three things that I avoid still:

1) Buying cosmetics. When my blush ran out in the fall, I headed to the Superpharm (Israeli version of the Shoppers Drug Mart). In the cramped cosmetics aisle, I braved five or six overly painted sales ladies, standing around like bored and hungry venus fly traps. When they were distracted by a cute baby in a pram, I quickly found what I needed and luckily checked the price before I headed to the cash. It was 55$ to replace my blush that costs 6$ at home. I dropped it like a hot potato and made a bee-line for the door. I used every little last crumble of my old blush and had my mom send me a new tin with my X-mas presents.
But then I ran out of mascara, and well, I bit the bullet last week and headed back in to the Superpharm with a mission: buy the cheapest mascara I could find. I did. It was 17$, marked down from the original 35$.

2) Getting a hair cut. For the most part, Israeli women have lovely, thick, long hair, sometimes with great wild curls. I imagine that most of the hair dressers here have never touched hair like mine- thin and poker straight- let alone give it a half decent cut. One of James' favourite hair cutters in the Christian Quarter of the old city, a man with the biggest pompador I have ever seen, tried to convince me with a pick of some blonde chick with layers and body and curls, cut out from a hairdressing magazine. "This," he tapped the photo "This look good with you," he said. I declined his offer kindly and laughed on the inside.
As a result, I have not cut my hair since I left Alberta. It was a cute little bob. Now, a year and a half later, I officially have the same hair cut I had in grade twelve. Lovely.

3) Buying jeans. A good percentage of the female population in this city never wear pants. And secondly, after we went through the settlers' protest a couple of months ago, I realized how very tall I am compared to the general population. Making my way through the crowd was like wading though tall grass. And those fabulous boobs that I see around here? They often come with appropriately sized hips. All in all, finding jeans in a 28 long that doesn't have that weird gaping part in the back is going to be interesting. I am down to two pairs and have had to put my dress pants into regular rotation.
I am soon going to have to buck up and find a half decent jeans store (Tel Aviv perhaps?) or hold out till the Munich conference and hope I luck out with the Germans.