'I've Decided to Immature With Age' « The Daily Waffle

by M

Trying to stay young is a full-time occupation. So hand in your resignation and start behaving outrageously, says Kathy Lette

Our mothers always told us that beauty comes from within… Yeah, within a jar marked Helena Rubinstein! As the years roll by, it’s hard not to be deafened by the pitter-patter of little crows’ feet. Beautification techniques to which you’ve never given a moment’s thought suddenly take up more of your brain space than Third World debt. ‘Miracle’ creams are so called because it’s such a miracle that anyone would fork out fifty pounds for them. But who cares? You bloody well buy them anyway. I developed a chronic inability to say ‘No’ to department store beauty assistants. Puréed pig ear lobes? Yes please. Ground sheep embryos in a handy, handbag-sized dispenser? Hell yes. If beauty experts told me to eat my own pedicure shavings for an invigorated complexion, I’d do it.

But just when my husband was about to have me sectioned under the Mental Health Act, I started to reassess my angst. Why was I striving to be young again? Petting in the back seat has lost its appeal. I no longer consider hitchhiking a means of transport, either. And I am finally old enough to eliminate ‘catwalk model’ from my career ambitions list.

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