May 152020
 

Old women may not have a hot bikini bod but we're allowed to get old!Everyone ages, right? Even if you’re in your 30s, you look different than you did at 18. And if you don’t, I hate you. Just kidding! LOLOL But for women in the USA, it almost seems like we’re not allowed to get old. There are so many provocative headlines like “So and so has a hot bikini bod at 54!!!” They don’t give a damn about so and so, only that that ‘ole broad still has a hot bikini bod. . . but that’s for another rant. So when I recently came across a page that showed famous actresses then and now in a backhanded, derogatory manner, I was like, “Hey, Can’t a Girl Even Get Old Around Here?”

Youth, Youth and More Youth

Youth is everything in this country. Fashions are shown on very young women, if not girls. Hairstyles are shown on very young women. Shoes are modeled by very young women. That’s why folks like Kim Kardashian spend a ton of money to avoid getting old around here. I believe Kim’s not far from 40 now so she better get the BIG checkbook out. That seems to be the age where even a beautiful woman becomes an ugly old hag.

The Headline That Pulled Me In

The come-on was a pic of Jacqueline Smith back in her Charlie’s Angels days and it said something like, “She was once the dream girl of legions of men, but you won’t even recognize her now!!!” Well, Ms. Once the Dream Girl looks damn fine to me, considering she’s gonna be 75 years old in October, for pity’s sake!!! Yes, she’s obviously aged, but she’s still beautiful. I quick flipped through to get to her pics since she was the come-on pic, but then I backed up and was flabbergasted.

Why Was I Even Looking at This Crap?

It was one of those articles where they try to trap you with a gazillion ads on the page, hoping you’ll slip and click on one of them or won’t be able to find the word NEXT. I hate those things, but they lure me in just like the rest of you. As I clicked through from frame to frame I started to gasp. What was wrong with these beautiful women?

PSA: We All Get Wrinkles

I went from one gorgeous woman to the next, both then and now. Did they look different? Of course. Did they look older? Of course. Did they look good? Of course!!! As I went through the pics I got madder and madder. HOW DARE THEY? Everyone ages. Everyone gets wrinkles. And I don’t care how much money you have, those wrinkles are gonna show eventually. And, yes, plastic surgery falls, too. You can run, baby, but you can’t hide!!!

Am I Looking With Old Eyes?

Yes, I’m old, too, so am I looking with old eyes? Probably. I am definitely not looking at the now pics with the eyes of a 25-year-old man looking for a thrill. That’s for sure. But still, I see women who have aged, some better than others, of course, but still look GOOD. Of course, to society I am pure-D crazy! No old woman is attractive, hot, sexy, pretty, beautiful. . . . pick your favorite word, unless she has a hot bikini bod, that is. WE WANT THE YOUNG STUFF!!! I would tell you what you can do with that, but it’s a PG-rated blog, at least most of the time. 🙂

So Why Can’t We Get Old Around Here?

My answer to this question has a lot to do with the advertising industry. They’ve set up this youth = beauty and old age = YUCK scenario. Even older men. . . . let’s see if I can put this in a not-gross fashion. Older men think they’ve hit the fountain of youth if they score a young girl. I beg to differ. I think you just look like a pathetic old man. But that’s me. I’m just Old Busted Hotness.

PROOF WE’RE STILL HOT. . . 17 AND 67!!!

Me, then and now 50 years apart

May 052020
 

Before Plague

Guess who’s back? And I’m even older and more busted than ever. LOL How’s quarantine treating you? Scary stuff, huh? Speaking of scary, have you met the real you yet? I mean, of course, uncut hair, undone nails, no facials and whatever other treats you do for yourself on a daily basis. There is nothing wrong with this, nothing AT ALL, but. . . a lot of us have had to face the mirror and see a stranger. Actually, a lot of us is ME. I’m “a lot of us.” Looking at your quarantine self is one thing. Loving your quarantine self is another thing entirely.

First Look

The first time I looked at the flat gray hair, the wrinkles (oh, the wrinkles!!!), the droopy eyes and the rest of it, well, I ran for the makeup drawer and threw on a metric ton. That was okay for a while. But one day it was, like, “Why bother? You’re not going anywhere. Your husband, daughter and grandson (fellow quarantiners in this house) have seen you in worse shape. Just be you. You’re old. Get used to it.” Easy to say. Not so easy to do.

The Yucky Mirror

The first few days. . . I’m lying. . . weeks were tough. Who was that old lady looking back at me in that mirror? I mean, yeah, my hair has started to gray but this old broad was doggone near totally gray with wrinkles all over the place, discolored skin and. . . hey, did you get the number of that crow that stomped all over my eyes? Being perfectly serious for a moment, I was really shocked. Was I that good at using makeup to hide all this stuff? Did Mother Nature hate me all THAT much? Apparently, the answer to both those questions was yes.

Plague Me

The Selfies From Hell

After I got used to looking in the mirror and when I could stop crying, I started taking a few selfies here and there. Think you look bad in that dastardly mirror? Wait until you see what your damn phone does to you!!! At first, I erased them all. I wasn’t having it. There was no way on this earth that I could look THAT bad. Or could I?

Acceptance Comes Slowly

As the days dragged on by and the selfies piled up, albeit slowly, I started getting used to what I saw in the mirror AND in the camera. I didn’t like it. Was I going to go back to the old me and just keep using the makeup for no good reason except to delude myself? I wasn’t sure. I put some on here and there. And then it went to just a lot of moisturizer. And then it went to. . . me. The real me. The me that is now. The 67-year-old me with wrinkles and crepey eyes, turkey neck and a myriad of other unflattering accouterments. And then it didn’t hurt so bad. And then it didn’t hurt at all. And then? Well, hell, it’s me. I earned every single one of those wrinkles. I earned every one of those damn gray hairs. I earned every sagging part of me. And you know what? It’s just. . . me.

And Now?

Well, I’m back to learning to love myself, which is where I was when this plague took over the world. Would I like it better if I looked like I thought I did with the war paint on my face? Yeah, I would, but guess what? That’s not really me. Me is the old lady looking back at me with all the imperfections, yeah, the ones I’ve earned over a long and pretty decent life.

The Future

And when all of this is a memory, will I start with the makeup again? Will I try to alter the me I’ve become and learned to love? I want to say, “Hey, this is me and this is what you’re getting from this point forward.” I want to say that. If I do, will I mean it? I’m honestly not sure. I mean, yeah, I always want to look my best, but if this IS my best, well, I guess I’ll have to accept that. But if part of loving your quarantine self also includes a little powder and lipstick, count me in!

The Crow

The Beautiful Crow That Stepped On My Eyes

May 222017
 

My Head ShotSelf-love. Self-esteem. Self-worth. A lot of us didn’t have much as teens. The sad part of it is a lot of us still don’t have too much. It’s a crying shame. Most of us have wonderful things to offer to this thing we call life. But many of us don’t offer them up because society tells us we don’t look “acceptable,” that we don’t fit in. . . because we’re larger or smaller than the average bear, we don’t have the right hair, we’re the wrong color or some other ridiculous reason. So we run and hide. Is this you? If it is, read on.

It’s How I Was Raised

That line was my mother’s BS excuse for why she could never change. “It’s how I was raised.” Well, most readers of this blog were raised in an age that taught us it’s all about others. Caring for and about others is a grand thing, provided you realize that YOU need some of that caring, too. Many of us didn’t and still don’t. I didn’t. It was all *them* and never me. It was instilled in me from a young age. I was fat, ugly and good for nothing. I owed my life to others because mine wasn’t worth it. And when it comes from your mother, it’s hard to tell yourself it’s wrong. Suffice it to say, by the time I was a young maid, there was nothing resembling self-esteem or self-worth anywhere near my soul.

Sometimes We Get Lucky

Despite my lack of self-esteem, there was one young man who saw through it all. He thought I was worth something. He thought I was beautiful. I still think he’s crazy, but he’s been hanging around for almost 50 years so maybe some of it’s true, eh? He taught me about unconditional love. Sadly, I didn’t understand that for a long, long, long time. It’s changing now. Better late than never, as they say.

What Society Tells Us

I probably don’t have to tell you that our culture in the U.S. says that to be worthy you should be tall, thin and preferably blonde OR have a big ass like Kim K. That’s acceptable because that turns you into a sexual object. Well, guess what? NOT OKAY. We are all worthy and sex should have nuttin’ honey to do with it.

I don’t know about you, but me, myself and I, for one, am getting tired of being told I don’t measure up. I think it’s time some of us pull ourselves up to our full height, whatever it may be, and start to show society that we can shine just as brightly as what it calls stars. I use that term very loosely. We’re the stars, ladies. We’re the ones who raise kids, work, create art, fix cars, do the rocket science (think Hidden Figures) and make this bright blue marble go ‘round.

What We Can Do

What can we do to counter society? Show ‘em they’re wrong. . . and I mean WRONG! How? Start by NOT. HIDING. Wear the bright clothing. Stand up front in the photos (very hard for me). Sing, dance, paint, do what it is you do and crow about it!!! Stick out that newly-found self-esteem! USE. IT. Don’t hide because you’re old, fat, not what society thinks is pretty or a combination of all the above. If you need inspiration, just look at my pic. I’m not any of it and I am starting to put it out there. Yeah, it’s cathartic for me, but it’s also fact. What fact? Like the old L’Oreal commercial used to say, “You’re worth it.” Yeah, I am. And so are you.

Why you should not hide or unhide

Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

Where are you? I know I’m not the only Old Busted Hotness around. There is strength in numbers. Start taking care of YOU if you haven’t been. Do you want a nice hair style? Get it. Would you feel better with your nails done? Get ‘em done. Want to take a college course? Go take it! Now I’m NOT telling you to break the bank here. But there are little things that can make you feel better about being you. Do them. Enjoy them. And then get out there proudly. Hold your beautiful head up high and show the world what you’ve got. STOP. HIDING. We are a force to be reckoned with.

Breaking Good

I am breaking new ground every single day. Some of it’s good. Some of it’s great. Some of it I need to try again. And again. And again. I was 40 years old before I could look at myself in a ladies room mirror because I was told I didn’t deserve to be putting on makeup and combing my hair like “normal” folks. Now when I walk into a public bathroom, I stare down that mirror!!! And, yeah, it stares back, but I no longer hate what I see. It has taken me a lot of years to get to this point. I’m just grateful I made it before check-out time.

The Point

My point is. . . . you are who you are. You are special, more special than you know. Do not check your self-esteem anywhere. Let your light shine. This world needs us old broads. They may not know it yet, but they DO. We have wisdom. We have knowledge. We have beauty. We know what it takes. We’ve been there. We’ve done that. Now it’s time to let the world know what we’ve got. Who’s with me?

See ya next time!