I enjoy your magazine so much that sometimes I daydream about writing a regular column for you. Something witty and smart that women will look forward to reading each month. I imagine myself being for you, what Joel Stein is for Time. My thoughts are full of what my page layout would look like, how my photo would be placed and what my catchy feature title would be. Flipping through your December issue today, I realized that my 50 year old face might be at risk of a facelift from your art department. I’m just putting it out there, that if my Christmas wish of writing for you comes true, I do not want to look like Demi Moore in the Ann Taylor ads. I want to be relatable… I want to look my age.
My facial resume includes, but is not limited to…..
Crows feet were earned from endless laughing fits over the last 5 decades, especially in the 1980′s.
That forehead line came from worry while waiting to adopt my first son.
The furrowed brow marks probably came from years of being a horrible math student.
Certain wrinkles were formed from squinting while painting, making sure colors were just right.
The bottom line of crows feet came from smiling at my children.
Those serious lines around my mouth are from pursing my lips together while not smiling at my boys.
Squint lines and age spots can be attributed to lining a double record album with shiny aluminum foil, slathering baby oil all over my face and sitting in the 1970′s noon day sun with my homemade reflector.
Photo credit: K*sco Studios
If this no retouching request is going to be a deal breaker for you, I give you permission to remove one deep line across the bridge of my nose, the three largest age spots and one deep wrinkle under each eye. Since the lines on my neck just showed up one day and are not related to any experience, good or bad….go ahead and airbrush them away! No more than that. Just so we are clear, here is an example of what I do not want to look like.
My sense of humor, stories and wrinkles all come from years of experiences, the majority of which I wouldn’t trade for the world. If by chance you decide to give me a column and I see my caricature instead of my photo at the top of the page, I’ll know that you probably thought I had a little too much experience.