I’d love to say I’ve mastered the art of growing older gracefully but sometimes there’s just too much getting in the way – like arms that continue to wave long after your company has gone or hair that costs you that same arm AND a leg to keep it looking “natural” which means the way it was in high school. (My high school pals decided to go gray together, but they keep moving it back a year.)
At least you can hide the jiggly arms with long sleeves and the bad hair with hats or just go all the way with ‘’”faux
hair” which I understand is all the rage these days. At least that’s a rumor I’m spreading. The problem is I can never find my faux hair because the cat enjoys dragging it around the house. I guess she thinks it’s a rodent I which doesn’t say much for my taste in hair augmentations.
But what do you do, heaven forbid, when you’re having a bad face day and your complexion appears somewhere between beige flannel and a crinkled brown paper bag. , Now that I am in the late summer or my years (hush now I still have winter to go), I’m having more frequent bad face days and it takes longer to apply make up. Why do men get off so easy? I thought of a mask for bad face days which pop up at the most inopportune moments like when I run into an old boyfriend. But a mask would probably frighten small children.
“Ugh, I am having such a bad face day!” I complain in the grocery line.
“What do you mean?” asks the person behind me..
“Don’t you not see the huge brown spot on my cheek and the bags under my eyes?!” (Now everyone in the line notices you’re having a bad face day.) So when make up fails to conceal, I just plop a band-aid over the offending spot and make up a wild story about surviving a brown recluse bite. Oh, and sunglasses cover a plethora of age signs, the bigger the better.
Surgery is an option but that’s incredibly frightening and I have a horror of having my lips interfere with my breathing. Plus there’s that whole issue of not being able to show emotion when you’re angry, so you must resort to cussing like a sailor.
So what’s a girl to do when she wakes up one morning and realizes the face staring back at her is the very same one she had in high school. Only melted. Here’s what you do; you smile a lot. It’s amazing how a smile pulls up those deposits on either side of the chin. So if you see me walking around with a big goofy grin on my face, you may assume I’m having a bad face day.
But not to worry, beauty is far more than youth, smooth unwrinkled skin or perfect features – that’s just prettiness and you had nothing to do with it. Lasting beauty is the expression of your soul through the depth of your eyes and the experiences you have chalked up in your advancing years. At least that’s what I tell myself on bad face days.
The only thing worse than a bad face day, is a bad body day but a good pair of blue jeans can fix that. Besides, in the words of Brenda Euland, my new favorite writer “If I did not wear torn pants, orthopedic shoes, frantic disheveled hair, that is to say, if I did not tone down my beauty, people would go mad. Married men would run amuck.”
Emily Jones is a retired journalist and bouncing baby boomers whose book “Love, Laughter & Losing my Keys” is available in area book stores and gift shops.