When you’re back at home, you’ll look in the mirror and see that while you were out, your hair frizzed up terribly. So you start brushing your hair so you can iron it. You might notice that your hair is uneven, so you search the bathroom for the hair scissors. Once you find them, you bring them to your mother and ask her for a quick trim.

Your mother says your hair is too long altogether, and you agree to take off three inches. After the haircut, you’ll want a broom to sweep up. You make sure not to get carried away with cleaning and quickly go back to brushing and ironing your hair. You look in the mirror, finally pleased with your handiwork, and go to your room to start on your makeup.

Thirty-five minutes and ten songs later, you emerge from your room, a glowing kallah meidel, poised and ready for a photoshoot.

You’ll run out to your cousin Tali, who’s a professional photographer, and thank her effusively for lending her time and expertise to your cause. After half an hour of travel time and 20 minutes of posing, you arrive back home with a permanently frozen smile on your face. You open your email and see a message from Tali in your inbox. It’s your new shidduch photo — a beautiful headshot — and a little note wishing you hatzlachah.

As you draft an email to the shadchan, your mother walks in and says that since you’re dressed up anyway, you must go to your third cousin’s vort. At the vort, you’ll meet all types of wannabe-shadchanim with suggestions and segulos that worked for their 12 kids. One shadchan knows a relevant boy and asks that you be in touch with her.

After the vort, you go home. You finally get to remove your layers of makeup and change into a comfortable hoodie and slinky skirt, and you pull your hair up into a bun. You return to your computer and send the email with your picture to the first shadchan. You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that you’re done with that ordeal, and think about taking a nap.

Then you remember the second shadchan, the one you just met at the vort.

So you write a new email to the second shadchan, attach your résumé and shidduch photo, and hit send.

But chances are, if you give your résumé and shidduch photo to the second shadchan, she’s going to ask you for a full-length picture — and a family photo to go with it.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 980)