Ah youth. Don't you just want to slap it sometimes? I was with some much younger people the other day and they were going on about this weird thing they've seen in people's homes and doctor's offices, and wondering what the heck a person could possibly want with it. I'm sure you've seen one before too. You know, those round mirrors that sit at the end of extender arms and are mounted on walls. Often bathroom walls. The mirrors with magnification so massive you could squeegee each individual pore on your face and cornrow your nose hairs if you wanted to?
Yeah. My sweet young friends wanted to know what in the world anyone would ever use a magni-mirror for. I mean, unless they were a doctor. (Which, honestly, what the heck do doctors use them for?)
Well, honeys. I've got news for you. We of the Over-45 set need Super Magnifying Mirrors in our lives. It's the only way we can find our eyeballs to put our contact lenses into. And most important, they allow us to use our mascara wands to get mascara onto our actual eyelashes instead of just repeatedly skewering our corneas with them. Because we simply cannot see our blinking faces in a regular mirror anymore.
Without magnification, my makeup is a total crapshoot. And given that I'm not willing to acknowledge my bifocally-impaired vision yet, I have walked out of my bathroom several mornings sans eyebrows. Yep. On more than one occasion I've Whoopie-Goldberged myself all over this town without realizing it until I managed to catch my reflection in a car window. (Which brings up the point that I obviously have no friends.) It would be fine if my brow hairs weren't naturally pale golden-auburn and there was less than a single inch between each hair. But they are and there isn't. So I need my makeup to actually reach my brows. Without it, I look like a cracked-out and slightly squinty Teletubbie.
Twenty years ago I was never going to grow up to be this person. You won't plan on it either. So I am putting out a public service announcement for your benefit: DO NOT MAKE FUN OF THE MAGNI-MIRROR, LEST KARMA SLAP YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD AND YOU WAKE UP ONE MORNING IN THE NOT SO DISTANT FUTURE TO FIND THAT YOUR EYEBROWS, ALONG WITH YOUR CLOSE-RANGE VISION, HAVE GONE TO VISIT FRIDA KAHLO AND NEVER PLAN TO RETURN. Then it will be you listening to nubile-naifs going on about orthopedic contact lenses, walk-in bathtubs, clapper key rings, and a sinister little item called "The Gripper."
My friends, respect the Mirror. And when your day comes, the Mirror shall respect you.
I have no idea what that means. Wanna go shopping?
Heh. The age thing totally creeps up behind you and taps you on one shoulder and when you turn around to look, it fools you and smacks you in the face. The past year has made a huge difference in how I look, etc. Menopause is evil. It's a wonder my family recognises me. I don't.