Friday, June 29, 2007

Truth

I'm back. And mildly depressed.

Some are blessed with brains, some are blessed with looks. I have never noticed the presence of the former, so have spent a life attending to my appearance. Whether through genuine attractiveness, good grooming, large breasts, or probably all three, I have always enjoyed my share of lust-filled (male and female) attention and, a possibly more significant barometer, jealousy (female).

Truthfully, I imagine I probably am not nearly as hot as I think I am, but I have always been graced with a happy ability to ignore any evidence to the contrary, so self-confidence has remained untouched by the occasional bad photograph (I bin them), or ghoulish reflection in a fluorescent-lit bathroom (always disregard the effects of bad lighting).

And, I have to say, life is good to those who look good. The problem is – here is the plot-twist! – an integral part of beauty is youth. No feminist diatribe will commence – it is just the way it is and will always be. There is no denying it. Charming men will demur and insist that older women possess elegance, sexual-assurance, conversation-skills (oh god!), and other blah-de-bullshit-blah, yet their eyes inevitably linger long on the high-breasted twenty-somethings, despite their lack of conversation.

I'm not past it yet, and I have a long way to go before genuine panic sets in, but I can see the sign-post looming large on the horizon. I fear becoming invisible. Go ahead and laugh at my superficiality.

I have a phone-number. I am going to make an appointment.

14 comments:

Leo said...

Just an observation but wouldn't the company of charming men be preferable to the group of others who grunt in monosyllables, drool openly and treat hot women like commodities they can trade and upgrade?

Remember, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I tend to believe that those charming men have the better eyesight.

Older women are hotter. Big breats and a pretty face are fine but when you look good AND radiate confidence and knowledge then you win hands down. I am a youngish female and I still think this.

Oh, and I disagree with your statement that you weren't blessed with brains. You can start a sentence correctly with 'whether', you used the word 'diatribe' and your writing proves you wrong as a whole.

unPC lesbian said...

I agree with the above re the intelligence, um...hello...you're a superior blogger.

Also remember you have been in an Asian country where they are all wrinkle free for longer due the quirks of genetics, and fat an oil deposits on skin. Go have an up close encounter with Bridget Saunders, it should make you feel better.

However, if you make the phone call, please do tell all.

llew said...

"I have a phone-number. I am going to make an appointment."

You getting work done? Or drugs so you don't care?

Anyway... there comes a time where you start to reflect on mortality, looks lost years ago lose their importance.

Martha Craig said...

I was terribly moralistic about aging - until it started happening to me. Now if I had the money I'd blow it all on tucks and nips.

d-man said...

My beard is getting whiter, but I tell people that's how the kids wear them these days.

mojo said...

Oh dear ... poor dear.

Cactus Kate said...

Post traumatic Asian travel syndrome.

Spend the day sitting in the public gallery at the Otahuhu Courthouse.

You will feel fabulous again.

Oswald Bastable said...

Or take a walk through the nearest Warehouse!

Anonymous said...

I've found only one cure for what ails you - grandchildren. Issues such as physical perfection, men and sex become irrelevant once you hold the next generation.
Hope this post isn't tactless. Can see it could be if you've never sprogged.

Mrs Smith said...

Gosh. How unexpectedly kind you all are. And how undeserved.

Mark said...

"yet their eyes inevitably linger long on the high-breasted twenty-somethings, despite their lack of conversation."

Not these eyes. Older women, definitely, have it hands-down over any twenty-something year old...

Mrs Smith said...

I think I am quite in love with you, Mark.

george said...

Hold the phone! You want to look like an extra out of aliens at Roswell or something?

Nothing more pathetic than these gals with the facial expression of a snapping turtle [jabbed] lips like Louis Armstrong's trumpet [collagen] eyes like a maddened sparrowhawk and facial skin like gladwrap [surgery], but hands and wrists like a Rhode Island Red chook [au naturel]

Look, you are going to grow old if you're lucky. You seem to have mastered the skill of doing it disgracefully. So what if you wind up in 20 years with crepe tits? Why spend money on the Remuera embalmers in the meantime?

Think Mae West, Hugh Hefner and other poor sorry buggers that can't grow up.

Get happy with the life you have now.

Mark said...

"I think I am quite in love with you, Mark."

Swoon...

You really know how to make someone's day, Mrs. Smith...

;o)