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My mom comes from a great gene pool. She’s 100% Portuguese and has the most beautiful wrinkle-free skin. She’s almost 86. She has a few lines but they can’t be classified as wrinkles. Her hair is still mostly dark brown with streaks of gray. The gray is dark and blends in with her brown. Other members in her family are enjoying similar aging.
I, on the other hand, being only half Portuguese, take after my dad’s side of the family: Irish, Scottish, French, English, and a few other regions, some believed to be Eastern Europe. Though I’m half Portuguese, that half is losing the aging battle. I have wrinkles, gray hair, and one of “those” necks. I won’t describe other areas of my body. I’m 66.
Years ago, before I was 21, I often went out with my mom and she was always asked for her I.D. I was not. I always thought it should be the custom of a restaurant to ask both ladies for their I.D. to avoid offending one of them. When I was 18 my dad died and mom and I decided to get away for a while and went to South Shore Lake Tahoe and she was asked for her I.D. as we entered casinos and I was not. She was 38.
For many years she was asked for her I.D., well into her 40s. I realize that’s fairly unusual but I don’t remember when the last time was someone asked me. So gene pool aside, I have always tried my best to take care of my skin (pale, transparent white) and hair (mousy brown though it started out beautiful blond) and to try to keep my hair, makeup and clothing within at least the same decade.
For many years I worshipped the sun and learned the sun was unkind to most people but in particular to fair people. So I stopped sunbathing and now when I’m outside I look like I’m headed to Alaska. I bundle up and wear big hats with large brims and bottles of sun screen and long sleeves. I had a few scary things removed from my face and legs and don’t want to revisit that procedure. At night I slather an expensive cream on my face, a different one for the rest of my body, and in the morning after my shower I have day creams with SPF factor. I’m a greased pig.
So back to my original question: do you look your age? I can’t answer that for me because I still look 16 when I look in the mirror. It’s denial but it works. I think I do look my age however because when a younger person needs that information (sometimes we have to give our birthdate) they are never shocked. They simply write it down. I remember whenever my mom had to cough up her birthdate they always exclaimed, “Oh, you’re kidding!” I’ve never heard those words directed at me. I guess all the creams in the world will never bring forth those exclamations from young people collecting data about me. So do I look my age? Or, horrors, do I look older? I don’t know! I truly don’t know.
I’ve spent a lot of time examining family and friends in my general age range and I think we all look alike. Many of us are doing our best with our hair and skin and makeup. Nothing ages a person more than a ‘50s haircut and ‘60s makeup. Even out of style clothing doesn’t scream “old” quite as much as fuddy-duddy hair and makeup. In fact, I have reduced the amount of makeup I wear and changed coloring to match my new skin tone (blah and gray) at the suggestion of a stylist. She was in her 30s but was very knowledgeable about aging accoutrements and makeup and hair.
When my 35-year-old daughter throws her hair in a ponytail and runs to the store without makeup or jewelry and in super casual clothes she can’t buy wine. If I put my hair in a ponytail and run to the store I look like I’ve just come down from the hills to buy things for the family still.
It’s not fair.
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