Looking at photos of our younger, less wrinkled, slimmer selves, it’ hard not to long for what we once had. And hindsight being what it is, we look back fondly and remember things a bit differently than they actually were. No, our world wasn’t perfect then. It just seems like it was.
Fab long time ago when we was fab
Aging gets us all. I look in the mirror and long for how I used to look. These days I thank God for Photoshop and its “Reduce Noise” feature. I like to add a little “blur” to my photos these days. I can remove some of the wrinkles, red splotches and sags. It at least gives me the illusion of having work done without actually having work done. It’s similar to what they used to do for older actresses – they’d film them through a filter or a mesh screen to “blur” the edges a little. Am I vain? Yes. I look in the mirror and just shake my head. Looking pretty used to be so effortless, and the joke is that back then I never thought I was pretty. Now being pretty is more of a hit or miss proposition, and often it’s just plain hard work. Some days I don’t want to paint on all the concealers, cover-ups, liners, mascaras, lotions and potions.
Not bothering with all that subterfuge can be freeing in many ways. You can be anonymous. If no one is looking at you anyway, you can wear those ratty clothes to the grocery store. Who cares? I used to obsess over outfits and never ever leave the house without makeup – even if I was just running to the store to pick up one thing. The way I look on Saturdays and Sundays these days would have terrified my younger self! Turning 50 seemed to be a turning point for me. I finally felt like an adult who didn’t have to answer to anyone else for how I “should” look or “should” behave. I finally started to feel comfortable in my own skin. I still powder the shine off my nose and refresh my lip gloss (if I don’t, I bite my lips and they hurt). I make sure my hair isn’t in total disarray, and I call it good.
Images courtesy of Pinterest