You woke up this morning feeling fine, but as daylight wanes you now find yourself with sweaty palms, a higher blood pressure and heightened anxiety. While you search for a diagnosis to this mystery ailment, let me weigh in with my medical expertise; it sounds like a severe case of Super Bowl Fever. Now before you start flexing your swiping arm on that new Samsung at Best Buy or warming those bar stools for you and your friends, be aware this is not the panacea. With ancient Far East’s roots planted firmly in modern medicine, it does not surprise that they are somehow tied to your ultimate game-day cure.

As I stare down at my now empty bag of Kisses, let me ask you something Milton Hershey: Was it not enough for you that I just ate my body weight in your chocolate? Was it truly necessary to do me twice-over by wrapping my guilt in pink and red foil, giving me sufficient reminder in January of not only Valentines Day’s encroachment but also of my perpetual singledom? Clearly it was not and thank you kindly.

It’s 10:15AM, and as you sit hungry at your desk pondering what to have for lunch, salad or sushi, pizza or pad thai, let me suggest some noontime fare that conceivably you have never had before. Botox, Prevelle, Juvederm and Restalyne.

We wait for this event, much like a first-time parent anticipates the birth of his or her child. We congregate with friends and throw parties in its honor, or we set our TiVos lest we be detained elsewhere. Monday morning water-cooler chat abounds following its air, as Americans are more cognizant of and interested in this event than other happenings such as health-care reform or economic recovery.

Sun Tzu once said, “The art of war is of vital importance to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin.” Though the Warring States Period may be over and history recounts innumerable conflicts, one in particular continues to ensue. This war does not have a chapter in textbooks, as troops have yet to be withdrawn, but the “Style War” is a grave battle for women, one against our adversaries, “hair woes” and “shoe pains.”

Although it appears that most everyone spent yesterday afternoon stocking up on rock salt, water bottles and snow storm necessities, I, and myriad women of New York, stocked up on other “necessities.” With lingering fears that 12 to 14 inches of snow would shut down the city, my Blackberry calendar was reorganized, phone calls were made and plans were shifted. Beauty day needed a new day and that day was upon me.