When I’m not snapping the loose skin of my inner elbows or watching my upper arms jiggle in a sleeveless dress, you might find me anxiously scrutinizing my profile in my car’s rearview mirror. (Don’t worry — I pull over first.)
It was death by dye: Six years ago, I innocently added a few caramel streaks to my brunette locks and got hooked on hair color. Before long, I was a double-process blonde.
From last winter to this July, I grew out my bangs — and was appalled to discover “what lies beneath”: misshapen eyebrows of multiple colors, missing tails and long, wiry hairs boinging this way and that. Brow makeup, which I loathe (and had successfully avoided until that moment), suddenly became a daily necessity.
Did you notice that the biggest fashion statement at Sunday night’s Oscar ceremony was understatement? No matter her age, almost every woman walking the red carpet looked respectable, not racy.
It may not be your favorite color. But won’t you consider wearing something pink — the color of health and hope — to get the word out that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month?
My smile has stayed largely the same over the years — think dimples and skinny lips — but age and a bajillion cups of tea have undeniably stained and diminished the effect. Fortunately, my husband is a cosmetic dentist, and his care has improved my smile and brightened my teeth. (At breaking my caffeine addiction, however, he seems powerless.)
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