Much as we fiction writers would love to write it so, time doesn’t move in reverse, and our bodies do not get younger. Sad but true facts we have to deal with daily. I’m not one to stare in the mirror and bemoan the changes time chisels into my skin, but lately I’ve been feeling bad about my neck.
It doesn’t look like my usual neck. It’s…looser. Not as smooth. It wrinkles and sags every so slightly. It does not possess the elastic resiliency of youth. It disturbs me.
I’ve developed a nifty skill with scarves lately. I’ve got one outfit and scarf combination I call the stewardess look. Have you ever seen a stewardess without a jaunty scarf? I think not. I’m blaming this tragic need for scarves on weight loss. Nothing wrong with that. But I don’t think there’s hope for it unless I gain the weight back. And that is so not going to happen.
Give me saggy elbows, a few age spots on my face (got ’em; don’t mind ’em), graying hair, and some bulges in places I have to disguise with bright colors and vertical strips, and I’m cool. But my neck? I don’t like it. Not at all. Creams, ointments and scarves are not going to make it any better, either.
Sigh… Guess it’s better than chin hairs. (I won’t even bring up plucking.)
We all have some things we can accept with ease, and others that may make us seriously consider the benefits of liposuction or a little ‘tuck’, or even strategic disguise with clothing. What do you feel bad about?