There are days I am glad I work at home and keep my face hidden from the rest of the world, like the day this article in The New York Times came out. It's a quasi review of a new self-help book (though really "help" is not the right word, unless you are into self-mutilation) titled "How Not to Look Old." It's by a former beauty editor for Glamour who wants to help us gal pals over 35 to better compete in a man's world, where apparently showing some gray, having a few wrinkles, and yellowing teeth if not grounds for getting fired are grounds for not getting hired or not getting that promotion.
The solution, of course, is only a box of L'Oreal, a shot of Botox, and some white strips away (for those of us lucky enough not to require full body plastic surgery). I am still depressed.
I confess, I did have my hair colored (brown) for the first time late last year. (For the record, the colorist just laughed as the gray was pretty much confined to a small stripe emanating from the upper-left corner of my forehead, a little like Alexandra Cabot from "Josie and the Pussycats," and only charged me half price.) But if going back into the workforce full time means a "Twilight Zone" or "Outer Limits" style makeover, no thank you. My crows feet and I will just roost right here.
Talking about depressing or bizarre trends... The New York Times (for the record, I read many other news sources, but the NYT, which a friend refers to as "a Socialist organ," is my hometown rag) just this past week ran yet another article about where to find great coffee. (Clearly the paper is run by a bunch of caffeine junkies, though I am now eager to check out the offerings at Cafe Grumpy in Chelsea).
Apparently the latest in caffeine connoisseurship is coffee brewed by an exclusive, halogen-powered machine (the only one in the U.S.!) imported from Japan (which is so well known for its coffee ; ), or at least one that costs a minimum of $11,000 and was designed by rocket scientists. (How many Stanford graduates does it take to make a cup of coffee? Apparently three.)
We ain't talkin' about no frou-frou coffee drinks with Italian or French names, infused with syrups and/or foamed. Mais non. We are talking basic (though these machines are anything but basic) brewed coffee. Like Maxwell House, if that house happened to be a multimillion dollar mansion in Palm Beach.
Maybe my fellow blogger, "Betty Cracker," who calculated how many people died in Iraq each time someone in the Bush administration lied, can calculate how much a cup of coffee made by a $20,000 machine is worth.
Moving right along (while I still have my caffeine buzz)... A note on the GQ QB contest. Deprived of a Tony Romo - Tom Brady matchup/walk off (a la "Zoolander"), we are faced with Eli Manning v. Tom Brady. While that might make for good football (though a Giants fan, I was kind of looking forward to a Brett Favre - Tom Brady matchup), it doesn't make for good runway. Though this hasn't stopped some writers from trying to sex up these two Super Bowl QBs.
While Tom Brady does have model good looks and some might consider him a sex symbol, though not me (and boys, for the record, when a woman says a guy is good looking, it doesn't mean she wants to have sex with him -- unlike many (most?) men I know who I have heard utter on more than one occasion "yeah, she's OK; I'd do her"), I would in no way place Eli in either category. Of course, that didn't stop Allen Salkin of the NYT from doing so. You can check out Mr. Salkin's analysis by clicking here.
In other news... Did you see that Dennis Kucinich withdrew from the presidential race less than 24 hours after my last blog post?! Coincidence? I think not. I also signed up for that golf class (though that means I'll have to get Botoxed, colored, and whitened if I want to get any attention from the instructor -- good thing I have a couple months to prepare), and found out that I had a nail in my left rear tire (the second one in less than two months!), which I had patched. A very big week. ; )
OK. That's enough ranting and raving for one blog post. Until next week...
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2 comments:
This post reminds me of the super model who was asked the best pick-up line she ever heard. "Hi, I'm Tom Brady."
Other than that, you seem very keyed in on the fleeing benchmark of youth. Nothing will stop the ravages of time. Nothing. This is antoher reason why we have marriage so that women of a certain age do not constantly have to compete with younger women for the attention of men.
On the other hand, Kipling wrote a poem about a 16 year old and a women past 40 that you should read as it ought to be a shot in the arm (non botox).
I love the pick-up line. Thanks for sharing. However, it is precisely because so many married men dump their wives when they (the men and their wives) pass 40 -- and take up with younger women (often younger versions of their spouse) -- that so many women turn to cosmetic surgery, in the hope of keeping them a bit longer. Would love to read the Kipling poem. Please send a link.
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