I’m starting to look like a turkey with a droopy double chin, Nicole admitted sadly as she looked at herself in the mirror. As long as she was being honest with herself, she raised her head to look at her neck to see the ravages of old age. Okay, it was just middle age but the signs were still there.
Maybe I should just start counting the rings around my neck like you would do with a tree to see how old I am. Nicole took a good look and groaned.
Whenever she was feeling out of sorts, she used to go on a shopping spree. They called it retail therapy but now it seemed more like retail torture.
All the blouses and dresses she tried on earlier this morning did not show her to good advantage from the chest to the top of her head. She went from store to store to see if she could find an outfit to wear to her nephew’s wedding next month and every outfit she tried on, showed her age.
I remember when I had perky breasts, no double chin, no rings around my neck, no droopy eyelids, no black rings or bags under my eyes, and no need to dye my hair. Now, look at me. I’m forty-nine and I look like a hundred and forty-nine.
Nicole exercised daily and ate only healthy foods. Shouldn’t I look much younger after taking such good care of my health? What’s the good of starving myself and being in pain from exercising every day if I still look old?
She didn’t need to lose weight, thank goodness. She still fit into the size six she wore in high school. Of course she knew those clothes would look silly on her now. The problem was her hands. There was no disguising those.
Nicole remembered a TV interview from several years ago. The first shot you saw was this young woman with a wide smile, nice legs, nice figure, wearing a short skirt walking toward the camera. The cameraman was brilliant. All during the interview he kept panning from her face, which, now in retrospect, must have had a zillion facelifts, to her hands which clearly showed her age. The dress had a high collar so you couldn’t see the rings around her neck but her hands showed that she was at least in her sixties. And all during the interview he kept the camera focused on her smiling, surgically enhanced face and then would immediately zoom in to her parchment aged hands, back and forth, face, then hands.
The hell with it. I’m not going to let Mother Nature win this war. I’ll probably look ridiculous in the summer heat, but I’m going to wear a dress with a turtleneck collar to the wedding.