Extreme Measures

I saw the most appalling face lift the other day. We were down in Newport Beach parking the car and a $200,000 Rolls Royce pulled up besides us. An older man got out of the driver side. He was wearing a blue blazer with gold buttons, light khakis, boat shoes (no socks of course) and a daper little neckerchief to complete the "I'm-rich-enough-to-eat" look. He came around to open the passenger side door. The first thing to emerge was a walker that was tentatively put on the ground. Closely followed were a pair of wrinkled, ancient legs haltingly placed on the concrete. Then a mostly bald head of short, patchy white hair. The woman looked up and I jumped. It was like her skin had been shrink wrapped to her face. Here was somebody who couldn't have been a day under a million with body parts hanging limply on all sides except her face which (thanks to a vigorous Bel Aire facelift) could have been mistaken for Michael Jackson's. It was incredibly creepy. So much for ageing with dignity.

Why are people so afraid of looking their age? Women I know who are still in their 20's are often afraid to tell anyone their exact age. What's the deal? I feel like Harry Potter saying "Voldemort" every time I tell people my age. Does it make people uncomfortable? Why can't people just embrace their hard earned age and celebrate their tenacity to survive in a world filled with teenage drivers? How many people would really trade their age and wisdom for a chance to be 10 years younger? Not me for a million years. The woman in the Rolls only looked older for her facelift. It emphasized the vast chasm between her walker-bound existence and her lust for youth.

It seems like people under the age of 20 and over the age of 90 are usually pretty forthcoming with their age. But for some reason anything in between these two extremes becomes taboo to discuss. So we get all kinds of ruses to mess with people's heads and confuse the age-guessing game. Face lifts, tummy tucks, boob jobs, fat sucked out here, and re-injected there. It's hilarious. I wouldn't be surprised if the new fad around L.A. is to start wearing Huggies diapers. Nothing says Youth like some nice diapers. There was that fad a few years ago of teenagers wearing little plastic pacifiers around their necks. Then there is the other aspect of grown women dressing like teenagers. Body glitter and belly-shirts on a 45 year old woman slays me. Not that I don't find myself falling for that trap sometimes. One of my favorite items of clothing is what Spike calls "my 4th grade coat" and I wear it whenever he isn't looking. It's puffy, powder blue, and reminds me of growing up in the snowy woods of Connecticut. A nice little visit to my youth does the soul good.

I really hope that rich Rolls Royce lady looks in the mirror and is happy with what she sees. She is solid proof that we have no clue what the face we present to the world looks like. Tammy Faye, George Hamilton, Jacko and Alf can tell you all about it. Click HERE if you haven’t eaten in the past hour.