Turkey on Your Birthday

As my birthday neared (after which I could still be considered middle-aged but just barely), I was getting my hair colored and cut, so I could face the world with a dazzling smile.  I'd been sporting a coif reminiscent of a dowdier Laura Bush (I know) but was updating to what I term a Full Pelosi.  That was when I saw it.  The turkey wattle.  Now, I'd been noticing that my dear husband has been hanging low around the jawline for a while.  I felt a little bad for him, because I knew he'd be upset if he realized, though I couldn't care less.  Since I'm younger than he (by nearly 1000 days), I also felt a little smug, proud of my taut mandibular.  That was then.

As I sat before the salon mirror, I could have gasped.  Normally before I catch my reflection, I arrange my face and stretch my neck.  At a quarter profile and without my glasses, I look like I have for the past twenty years (I thought).  Once you're wattled, though, that's pretty much that.  This is how old I now am:  after my horrible discovery I (no lie) thought, "Oh well, maybe I can get a quick nap before she needs to wash out my color."

Later, while in line at Kohl's, I studied the woman checking out in front of me.  She was probably 80, with bleached blonde hair, lots of make-up, a newsboy cap, and leather pants.  Leather pants!  I snickered to myself, because a) at least I'm not that old, and b) what a get-up.  Then it hit me that she got up in the morning and made a bit of an effort.  Though my hair was freshly done and I do wear eye make-up every day, I pretty much have thrown in the towel.  From then on, I've been trying to keep that towel picked up.

I've always liked this quote by Isaac Mizrahi that I clipped from a magazine in 1998.  He said:

I don't care.  I don't judge.  Like, I was at a dinner one night and somebody said, "Look at her," and I said, "She's having fun, what's wrong with her?"  She looked a mess, but she was having a lot of fun, and she thought she looked great.  And I wasn't having a lot of fun, and I thought I looked great too.  So there was something she was doing that I was doing wrong.  And this guy said to me, "We are men of taste."  And I thought, "Not me, honey."