Oh, to be young again! You never seem to appreciate what you’ve got until it’s gone. The clear vision, firm yet supple skin, ears that actually hear, hips and legs that gracefully support your upper body and help you effortlessly move about. As you gaze at your reflection, you ask, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…who is the fairest of us all?” “Sorry, not you, Honey”, the Mirror responds with a smirk. “The fountain of youth has dried up along with your skin so you’d better start accepting these ‘changes’ because it’s not going to get any better. Of course, that is, unless you’ve got a lot of money in your savings account and are able to pay for a very skilled and reputable plastic surgeon”. Thanks a lot for your infinite wisdom, Mirror! See if I ever summon you again!!
So aside from when I get up in the morning and perform my daily grooming ritual, I try to avoid mirrors as they can be exceedingly ruthless and cruel with their criticisms. I don’t need them to constantly remind me that I’m beginning to resemble something of the feline persuasion due to these ‘rogue’ hairs growing out of unusual places on my face, with the most noticeable ones sprouting out of my chin. When I hear someone call out, “Here, Kitty-Kitty”, I never know whether they’re referring to me or an actual cat! Heaven forbid I go anywhere without a pair of tweezers because its anybody’s guess when those suckers are going to pop out! I am also well aware that permanent creases have formed either in, under, between or around my forehead, eyes, brows and lips (respectively). Speaking of brows, there is something sinister going on there as well! A few (quite a few) of my brow hairs have decided to take part in a competition (with no end in sight) to see which one can grow the longest. I’m not sure what the prize is but it’s got to be something pretty spectacular. Some of those hairs have grown so long, I can practically braid them! If I don’t stay on top of ’em and continually trim them back, they become a bit wild and woolly (sort of like you’d see on an older man in a British comedy). Think ‘caterpillar’.
And then of course, there’s the failing vision. Without a pair of glasses, I cannot tell a pile of leaves from a dog (at least, that’s what I’ve been told). And if you happen to ask me anything (yes, go ahead and ask me), don’t be surprised if I don’t respond because I didn’t actually hear you and even though you stare at me quizzically afterward, I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t hear you so I simply stare back and smile. And if by chance I hear you at all, usually the words don’t match up with what you actually said. For example, if you say to me, “How are you, what have you been up to today?” my brain is likely to translate that to, “What a view! We should take a photo and use it in our display”. Sadly enough, that’s just the stuff going on from the chin up. Aside from that, there are the calves and ankles whose surfaces look something akin to Google Maps, the knees that sound like Rice Krispies, the sad and deflated thighs, and lots of drooping and sagging in the remaining areas just north of there.
Hmmm, what does that leave us with? I have surely forgotten something. Oh, that’s right! The neck, THE NECK! What is happening with my neck? Is that a ‘waddle’ I detect? My skin is not springing back like it used to and it’s making me quite upset!! Nothing seems to make a difference, and no amount of ‘home remedies’ seem to help. I’ve tried countless potions and lotions, I’ve even tried kelp! (I haven’t really but it rhymed so I used it). Sorry, that was really lame but I couldn’t help myself. Anyway, I recently had a realization, two actually. The first? It’s time to face the facts, I have become ‘elastin challenged’. The second? It might be time to seriously consider turtlenecks. But I’d really rather not. In my mind, turtlenecks have always represented ‘defeat’. Diane Keaton’s been wearing them for years, probably long before they were ever even necessary. She can pull off a turtleneck with a wide belt and flare-legged pants like nobody’s business. I admire her bold fashion choices but I have a very different body from hers and would look quite ridiculous if I tried to pull a matchy-matchy.
But I think I can handle a turtleneck. We’ll see. I’m slowly working my way from scoop necks to V-necks to boat necks. The thing is, once you take the final step and resign yourself to wearing the ol’ T-Neck, it’s only a matter of time before other parts of your wardrobe will fall in step. You start out with trendy, to-die-for Louboutin’s paired with sleek, form-fitting Versace’s, then it’s Clarks with NYMJ (not your mom’s jeans), and the next thing you know, you’re sporting Dr. Scholl’s and Alfred Dunner elastic waist, pull-on pants! But I’m not ready to go there, my friend! Not even close. One step at a time. Let’s not hurry this along before it’s absolutely necessary, ok? I still have a driver’s license and my hair isn’t blue so check back with me in a year or two and I’ll let you know where I’m at. In the meantime, can anyone recommend a good firming cream? I could sure use some.
My entire family is insane. 