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Face The Truth

Lara McKnight

When I was a teenager, a 50-year-old woman looked like Bea Arthur on the “Golden Girls.” Not that Bea wasn’t a nice-looking lady, but to 17-year-old me, she looked like an OLD nice-looking lady. Today’s 50-year-old woman looks like Jennifer Anniston or Jennifer Lopez or Jennifer Garner –a different Jen-eration altogether- and it feels like the bar is set so high.

I’ve let my hair grow long, lost weight, started trying to take care of my temple (of doom!) and while my hips don’t lie, I’m no Shakira. But one of my responses to losing too many friends recently that were entirely too young to die has been simply to start to care … about The Other Woman.

When that wrankly, lizardy (and yet strangely attractive) old bee-yotch photo-bombed my selfie yet again the other day, I decided to seek out an expert for help. My youngest offspring works with beauty products at the professional level, and I asked her for some specialty advice the other day. She set me up with a reasonably simple skin care regimen. “It contains hyaluronic acid, which your body produces naturally.” She sounded like a news anchor when she said it, so I know it’s true.

It felt a little KY jelly-ish. “You mean I’m putting fake coochie juice on my face?!” I asked. Well, I’m not sure that is where hyaluronic acid comes from, but it was good for a laugh …

Don’t “Martyr” And “Mother” Sound Alike?

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