I'm in my mid 30's. There I said it. Later this year I will be in the front side of my later 30's. HOLY BLEEP!
I don't feel my age...whatever that means, I don't think I LOOK my age, whatever that means (more on that later).
I spend the majority of my time - like the rest of the world (you know what I mean) does at work. I work with a people who are mostly quite a bit younger than I. While I love their youthful exuberance, seemingly endless stores of collagen....wait, I'm starting to sound bitter, I don't mean that. I do truly like them...a lot. We're just in different places. I'm in the place where I have canyon's on my forehead. They're not
Let me explain.
I'm boycotting the mirrors at Sephora.
Let me explain more.
After I got off work today I had a perfectly beautiful and sunny Monday afternoon to myself. I took myself to get a slice..ok two...of pizza and a tasty fermented apple beverage and then to Sephora to pick up some new lip color said young friends had told me about. I haven't never met a red lipstick I don't like, and w/ the promise of being long lasting and shiny...I was IN!
While I was there, I decided to try on all the other colors this particular lip color came in. I've never liked makeup mirrors in retail stores. I feel like they make me look green and uneven. So, when I'm trying on makeup there, I take special care. I TOOK special care. Right up to the moment where I liked I color, backed up to see it in context and BOOM....
 |
| CANYONS!!!!!! |
CANYON!!!!
WHAT?
THE??
FUCK!?!?!?!?
I'm sure the Griswold's are going to be coming by my forehead any second now....
So what do I do? I do the mature thing.... look at my forehead in EVERY SINGLE MIRROR in Sephora in the most nonchalant manner possible. Then when I get home...? Stare at myself in a mirror in the bath room for a REALLY LONG TIME.
As I stare, I start to realize....they're not canyons. They're "worry lines". FUCK. I worried my way through my teens and twenties, and then I hit my 30's and am FINALLY living my life free from stifling worry, and what to I get? WORRY LINES, like some screwed up tattoo I got with magical delayed ink. Guess all sins are never absolved. Personal evolution can only take you so far. I would find all of this "ha ha ironic" IF IT WEREN'T ON MY FACE!
Sigh.
To acompany the canyons - worry lines...whatever, are boulders. The boulders are my makeup that get in the canyons and makes them look 10x worse than they already are. So what? Quit wearing makeup? Ha...no. Not going to happen. So we must build a better mouse trap.
I do the logical thing, google "makeup tips for women in their 30's". Really interwebs!?!??! Really!??! Give me some tips better than not to be fushia lipstick or bright blue eyeliner.
I'm kinda set in my ways when I comes to makeup. I've been using the same types of products for a very long time now, but just tweaking the colors.
Perhaps I should go to someone that get PAID to do this. Maybe all I need is a primer. Just to fill in the canyons, but not color them. I don't know....
Now I'm self conscious.
I pride myself that I don't act old or boring or old and boring. This is the first real signs of aging I've noticed. OK, that's a lie...it was the grey hairs, but that's so easy to cover up.
All the other people my age that I'm regularly around are men. They get better looking with age. It's not like women get uglier, but I feel that societally we devalue a little. I hate myself a little for even typing that, but it's true. At least that's what the world at large tells us.
I'm in a better version of my body than I was in my 20's. Hell probably since I was since I was 19. I want to feel fetching and sexy and youthful. I know it's all in my mind. But right now all that's on my mind are these damned canyons.
I want to age gracefully. But if I do, when why are lines on my forehead sending me into a little mental free fall.
Maybe I need a complete mental overhaul about how I view aging.
Or maybe I just need a tube of primer.
No comments:
Post a Comment