A Change of Pace

"Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty."
— Amy March in Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Me (back), my dad, my sister, Carrie, and my Grandma Haskell of the pin-curls 1980

I've always had pretty hair.  I've worn it long most of my life.  Long is easy, and cheap.  And pretty.  Then, more a decade ago, I decided there was nothing sadder than a fat old lady with stringy hair hanging down her back, clinging to the last vestiges of a glory long past—rather like the wisps of hair still clinging to her head.

So, I cut it.  My stylist, Melanie Knapke, suggested a bob.  Long hair and short both at once.  Melanie is very good.  She's also very expensive, so the length of my hair has waxed and waned with my finances.  For a while it was very long again.  I was content.

The other day, Dallas and I went shopping because I had a job interview and my clothes no longer fit.  I knew I have lost quite a bit of weight over the past year or so, but I hadn't gone down a dress size.  I had gone down two.  And, I got into a skirt a size that I haven't been able to wear for nearly 30 years.  I tried it on by mistake, but I even got it buttoned and zipped.  I didn't buy it, but I felt like one of those Progresso soup commercials.  It fits!  It fits!! [happy dance].  I didn't call Progresso.  I just told Desireé.

On Timeless Beauty

I'm not quite exactly sure how to take this, now that I think about it.  Like all brilliant poetry, there are many facets to explore and angles from which to view it.  Be that as it may, my son, Paul, age 23, has a Shakespeare class at university and decided to dedicate this to the senior people in his life.  The dedication was instigated when he said that no one told him they grow up so fast, referring to his five-month-old daughter.  He got a shower of 'cry me a river' from his middle-aged relations, and so thus came the sonnet in reply. I am going to go with my knee-jerk response on this one and proclaim it a beautiful sentiment and an undeniable truth.

Sonnet #2 by William Shakespeare

Growing Old Gracefully??

There was a time (a week or two ago) when I had little patience for the whole anti-aging industry.  I reveled the irony of the same women who are so proud of their bra-burning days are now visiting their pricey 'colorist' every six weeks to cover their gray and getting face lifts and breast implants—fueling a billion-dollar beauty industry as they battle against the creep of years.  Talk about a defense budget.

"Women should grow old gracefully," I would say.  "Wrinkles are a sign of hard-won wisdom and a life of trials overcome and joys embraced.  They should be proud of their battle scars."  Anti-aging creams and serums?  Pah!  Age-defying cosmetics?  Overblown.  Skin peeling, collagen injections, eyeliner tattoos?  Puh-lease!