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Tag Archives: wrinkles

Your breast way to age

“Um, what’s this you ordered?”

I heard my husband’s voice lifted in curiosity from the other room and immediately knew what he was asking about.

“Why do your breasts need a pillow?” He asked with brows raised, walking in holding a package looking both baffled and intrigued.

“Wait.” He stopped himself and me before I could answer. “It’s for your mother, right?”

I was about to nod yes, but he didn’t need me to and continued his conversation with himself. “I knew it.” He studied the golden package, turning it over in his hands. The picture showed a woman with a device that looked like a small baby carrier; straps over the shoulders and a small hour glass shaped pillow running down thru the breast area.

“What is it for?”  His eyes held the confusion of men everywhere trying desperately to understand women things.

Again, I opened my mouth to explain, but he put an end to the one sided conversation by tossing the package back on the table and rolling his eyes. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

He was right. He didn’t want to know. Only my mother could find a pillow intended to support the breasts during sleep to keep them from pushing up and creating wrinkles in the sensitive décolleté area. If you don’t know what that is, it’s the area of skin under the neck and above the breast, generally exposed to sun and prone to wrinkles and discoloration as we age. Apparently, just having breasts and sleeping promotes these wrinkles as well.

Luckily my mother has the great and powerful Dr. Oz to inform her of all these miracles to help reduce her lines and leave her forever young. Remember when the end all be all of TV host promotion revolved around Oprah sharing her favorite things? Ah, simpler times.

Now Oz promotes everything from HCG injection diets to Oil of Oregano, Green coffee bean extract, Garcinia Cambogia, the Breast Pillow and a million other supplements, ingredients, foods and lifestyle choices. He’s got a hand on your heart, on your waist and even up your pants. He is all over you and all your health and vanity needs.

What beauty wisdom my mom doesn’t receive from Oz is made up from 3am infomercials promising to erase wrinkles in seconds. I try to tell her if maybe she stopped worrying and slept more it would do the same job.

But what do I know. Until recently, I thought decollate was a kind of vintage looking art work, but I then I found out that was decoupage. My bad.

So what was this pillow doing at my house anyway? Turns out, my mother is as notoriously bad at internet shopping as she is good at finding miracle anti-aging products. So, from time to time, she tells me what she wants and I order it for her on-line.

Oz reveals the secrets. I find them on Amazon. My mother basks in her youthful glow.

But if you ask my husband, it should all remain a mystery.

Oh, it exists.

Oh, it exists.

 

 

 

 

Wake-up call

Stumbling from bed half awake, I literally hobble to the bathroom on feet that won’t walk straight, and a back bent over in a broken position. It’s 6:30am and although I’m up, it takes my body a few minutes to get with the program.

I look in the mirror, squint and look closer. Man I look bad. What the hey is going on around my eyes?! Okay, I need to stop squinting ASAP! At least my freckles are cute and sexy. Wait, I inspect more closely. OMG those aren’t FRECKLES, they’re AGE SPOTS?!  I stare at the brown spots that were once freckles. I see how each little dot has literally consumed the one next to it and grown twice its size.

As I’m staring, I notice something else. Hairs – long, dark ones by the corner of my mouth. Ew. They’re so dark, I think the hair by my lip has sucked all the pigmentation from my head and that’s why I now also need an appointment with a colorist! What is happening?! I try to pull out the offending hair, but, yeah, it’s in-grown so I wind up having to dig into my skin, and I just know I’m squinting as I attack my face with the tweezers. Now there’s a puffy red mound next to my lip and half the offending hair is still deep in there. I’m getting prettier by the minute. Why did I get out of bed? Oh, right. It is a bathroom for a reason.

Business done, I’m about to head out when my eye is attracted to the flat metal square on the floor. I’m obviously a sadist this morning. NO! My brain is screaming. Do not do it. Don’t! But of course I will. There’s no stopping me it seems. I step on, exhale all my breath and look down. What are those??

Some scraggly, old witch is missing her feet! I want to turn away but I can’t help but stare at the scaly skin, funky nails and the deformed looking appendage that looks as if a 6th toe about to be born. I walk on those things? I am so distracted by the feet I used to fancy as foot model material that I almost missed the nail in the coffin.  I’ve gained two pounds.

I want to kick the scale. I want to break the mirror! I want to…go back to bed! This is a very bad dream! Traumatized, I snuggle back under my protective covers. Someone obviously needs a whole lot of beauty sleep. I look at the clock. It is 6:34am.

I have 11 minutes to make it happen.