I have just recently reached a milestone in aging, and as such have spent a long time ruminating on my mortality. Well, that's not entirely true--I'm going to live forever, so really I've just been stressing about the appearance of fine lines and gray hairs and exactly what in the hell I plan to do about these developments. Then last night I watched Extreme Makeover, a TV show which could generously be called Extreme Vanity, or could ungenerously be labled Let's Find Some "Ugly" (Read: Normal Looking) People and Make Them into Someone Completely Different Just to Get Some Ratings and Possibly a Boost for the Plastic Surgery Industry because God Knows We Can't Just Deal With Aging and Getting Fat, We Must Worship at the Altar of Eternal Youth--Worship, Damn You! But the latter title doesn't fit neatly on the screen. Anyway, I won't bother describing Extreme Makeover, check it out for yourselves and be amazed or horrified--I'm sure either reaction will do nicely.
Once again, I'm going to take a moment to blame the damn Baby Boomers, the least gracefully aging generation EVER, for the ubiquity of plastic surgery day spas, laser hair removal parlors, and other purveyors of implants, transplants, lifting, separating, tightening, polishing, lipo-sucking, lip-plumping and any other thing you can think of to make yourself into an exhibit at Madame Tussaud's. It's called AGING, people! We all shrivel up and die, and let's just spend a moment thinking about how bizarre Pamela Anderson is going to look when she's 80 and still has perkier boobs than a 16 year old. How confused and horrified are future archaeologists going to be when they unearth an ancient coffin from 2003 and find it empty except for a femur, some porcelain teeth and two sacks of saline? And finally, does ANYONE think that Joan Rivers looks GOOD? I mean, okay, compared to a Balrog she's doing pretty well, but let's keep it within our species, please.
I don't have a problem with minor cosmetic alterations--highlighting the hair if you're prematurely gray, getting your teeth straightened or polished, etc--but letting someone hack off parts of your body just to try and avoid the reality of getting older is delusional. You are going to get old. If you're lucky, you'll get so old that you'll look like one of those dried apple people they sell at farmer's markets. And you know what? Looking like a dried apple is a good thing, because it means YOU AREN'T DEAD. Also? Having a face so tight that people could ice skate on it doesn't increase your sex appeal. Because we all look at it and go, "Nice mid-life crisis, dude. Guess what? You're still old. And now you're still old and if you smile you run the risk of your face snapping off and landing on my tossed salad." Note to Michael Douglas--the facelift didn't help you get Catherine Zeta Jones. Having more money than God? Much more helpful to you. Just thought I'd point that out.
So back to the major focus of this piece--me. After confronting Extreme Makeover, I have decided to enlist your help, because I have decided that the greatest danger I face is not aging, but being sucked into the vortex of cosmetic alterations. I have made a list of Things I Will Do to Age Gracefully. Here it is:
1. Moisturize.
2. Color my hair until I turn 60, at which time I will gradually do a Bob Barker and be gray.
That's it, because I don't want to be one of Those Women--you know the ones, with the extremely red hair or the platinum blonde hair that looks like it might break if you touch it and the permanently surprised look on the face that is considerably less wrinkled than the neck and hands? Yeah, Those Women scare me, because somewhere, deep down, they think they look normal or good, while people my age are horrified. If I'm going to horrify anyone, it's going to be because I look like a vengeful old crone, not an escapee from Spielberg's A.I. So here's to wrinkles! And if any of you catch me mentioning the words "Botox," "Tuck," or "Lipo," tackle me until the fit passes.
This rocks. I will link it at lunch right after my, um, Botox appointment (er, not really).
This show was on when I was at the gym last week, and I was just doing a simple warm-up when they peeled off the bandages on what I presume was a woman's liposuction. I let out an audible "ewww" and got a few chuckles. Television can be a scary, scary thing.
hln
Posted by: hln at September 19, 2003 10:45 AMAmen, sister!
I have long said that when I get to the stage of life where some people beging coloring, surgery-ing, and having strange toxins injected into their bodies, I will be the proverbial little old lady with white hair, Keds, a bicycle, and a pair of binoculars for watching birds.
And if people have a hard time looking at me, with my wrinkles and my sags and my white hair, that's just too damn bad for them.
Posted by: ricki at September 19, 2003 01:17 PMThis made me laugh out loud! It's wonderful. I AM at un certain age, 51, with all sorts of crap occurring. I always vowed I would never voluntarily have someone cut on me for any reason. I've kept my vow.
I do highlight my hair and moisturize. I don't, however, exercise enough (well, at all really)other than work and I've tried Atkins and must say, I need an orange occasionally, therefore no carb ain't for me.
I truly don't care about the wrinkles, it's the chin/jowl thingie melting into your neck that doesn't thrill me...
Lautréamont:
``The immutable and necessary truths which are the glory of
nations, and which doubt strives in vain to shake, began ages ago.
These are things one should not touch. Those who would make
literary anarchy under the pretext of novelty lapse into error. One
does not dare attack God; one attacks the immortality of the
soul. Yet the immortality of the soul, that too, is as old as
the world's foundations. What other belief will replace it, if replaced
it must be? It will not always be a negation.''
Then on the other hand:
``Youth intends sentimental lucubrations. Maturity begins to reason without confusion.
He was only feeling, he thinks. He used to let his sensations
wander: now he gives them a pilot. If I liken humanity to a woman,
I shall not expatiate upon her youth's being on the wane and the
approach of her middle-age. Her mind changes for the better. Her
ideal of poetry will change. Tragedies, poems, elegies will no longer
take precedence. The coolness of the maxim shall prevail!''
I so agree with you. I see women and men my age having their skin peeled, their eyes lasered, their fat sucked out, their eyelids unpuffed. Botox make people look like badly constructed manikins.
It's gross.
I'm 50. I have too many extra pounds, very few wrinkles (because of the extra pounds, I suspect). But, my hair started turning white at age 18, so I colored it for years, and so far, it looks natural. I don't do it myself, I have it done, and it is well worth the money to me.
I don't do make up (way too much time), and sometimes I remember moisturizer.
There are lots of great things about getting older -
- sex is lots better than I ever imagined
- I don't get chased around a desk by a boss
- clients take me more seriously
- it's ok to speak my mind.
At 50, we have enough money to travel a bit, have my horses, dogs and cats, and my hubbie's gun collection.
And someday, if I ever retire, I will wear purple anytime I wanna.
Posted by: Beth at September 20, 2003 08:50 AMThe idea of having someone cut into me for any reason other than to save my life is Not Appealing. Generally I'm a fan of body modification if it makes the owner of the body happy. Hair color, I'm down with, but I'd be more likely to have rainbow streaks at 60 than try to pretend I haven't gone gray. I have pierced ears and will pierce more things eventually. Tattooing is in my future. Moisturizing, vitamins, exercise: all good. But I draw the line at surgery. I've had surgery. It isn't fun. I'm not doing it again unless I have to.
Posted by: shell at September 20, 2003 01:27 PM3. Be an optimist. It's amazing what good will does for the complexion.
Quite incredibly we have both written on the same subject today. I really enjoyed reading your perspective, you might want to take a look at mine. Combine what you know and what I know and we can fix ourselves up enough to be the sexiest ladies in town.
Posted by: Roberta at September 21, 2003 11:43 PMLet's face it. If we were all 21 years-old again, we wouldn't be having this dialogue.
Posted by: Interested-Participant at September 22, 2003 05:34 AM