Key words that set my pulse racing are erase, disappear, soften, lift, tighten, smooth, restore, minimize, sculpt, refresh and that perennial favorite: turn back the clock
Can you believe the creams, pills, exercise machines, make-up innovations, enhancement tips, Web sites and countless ads devoted to helping women believe the lie that youth can be bought? I am horrified — simply horrified — as I devour multiple anti-aging articles along these lines.
My mother — a vibrant, fun, energetic 70-something — had a facelift some years ago, and I was personally involved in the recuperation process.
It was not fun to watch.
In fact, it was downright off-putting. A few months later, my best girlfriend had an eye-lift, and that was not pretty, either. However, both look incredibly youthful and rested now.
As my eyelids and naso-labial folds continue to dissolve into a mish-mash of thinning flesh, I tend to minimize the recovery struggles after cosmetic procedures and focus on the end results.
After all, when I had babies, and held them in my arms immediately afterwards, I forgot all about the pain. (Who am I kidding? Actually I never forgot the pain, and I kept having babies anyway.)
I am thinking that cosmetic surgery would fall roughly into the same category. After the birthing process, the pain seemed a small price to pay for the miracle of new life. I figure a decent mini-facelift is good for at least 10 years’ worth of new life at the opposite end of the spectrum.
At the same time, I am trying to distance myself from the still, small voice that whispers to me about appearance being transitory and inner beauty being more important and the perils of vanity.
I plug my ears and shout “la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” to drown out this irritating, inner voice. Doesn’t work very well, but it shuts it up for a few minutes.
Like it or not, appearance m
I can rationalize all I want about beauty being only skin-deep, and I know by heart the Biblical references to internal beauty, but the fact remains that the pretty women (Esther, Rebekah and Sarah to name a few from Bible days) are the ones that rocked.
All to say, I think it is a worthy goal to do the best with what I have and nip and tuck and restore if at all possible. At this point, I cannot even remember what color my hair is, and thank God every day for the miracle of highlighting.
I find it a delicate balance to walk the line between outright vanity and woman-aging-well.
We Woodstock-generation boomers are living longer, healthier lives, and most marketing studies point to a likely possibility of reaching age 90. On one hand I want to be proud of my well-earned wrinkles and graying mane; on the other, I want to rip them off my head. This is where the surgery part comes in.
I figure to fully rationalize a nip and tuck, I should return to the workforce full time. In order to do that, I must look my best, and having my eyes done and a mini-lift would fall under the heading of investing in a productive future.
This makes perfect sense to me. I think we will be able to deduct this on our taxes as a marketing expense.
I am getting excited just thinking about it.
First, though, I need to figure out how to stop that nagging voice in my head about inner beauty being enough.
“La-la-la-la-laaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”
This article first appeared in “The Lighter Side,” Capital Journal, Pierre, SD, March, 2010.
#nipandtuck #babyboomerhumor #goingundertheknife #cosmeticsurgeryhumor #aginggracefully
