I think I get away with that “trophy wife” farce because people think I’m much younger than I am. (I’ve covered that topic already so either scroll down or take a guess. Steven will be 58 next month.) The biggest compliment I get is that I have great skin. I never really considered what that meant until recently. Now I notice other women’s skin. And sometimes it’s pretty yucky. I don’t say that to be mean, but leather looks better as a handbag.
Genetically, I’ve been blessed with some fairly “unwrinkley” chromosomes. I don’t know if that makes up for the dementia gene that’s swirling in the pool, so I’ll take what I can from the family crap shoot.
I’ve never been fanatic about babying my dermis. When I was young, blonde, fair skinned and growing up in New York, I didn’t know from skin cancer. I just wanted that Christy Brinkley “California Girl” tan. Little did I know, Christy Brinkley now lives on Long Island and the tan came out of a Cover Girl bottle! To compound the abuse back then I used to wash my face with the same soap I used to wash my hands, body, pantyhose and dog.
The only beneficial routine I did incorporate was a daily slather of Oil of Olay, original flavor. It came in a glass bottle and was a pale pink color. I got a sample once and became a loyal user because “it didn’t smell too gross”. What a discerning customer! The purpose of the lotion was to counteract the vigorous way I used to scrub my face. It felt so tight and dry when I was done that the Oil of Olay was necessary to lube up my skin enough to be able to smile!
These days, when I look in the mirror I see a few blotchy red areas that were probably damaged during those summers on Jones Beach where my “suntan lotion” was Johnson’s Baby Oil, SPF 0. There are a few wrinkles around my mouth from 25 years of smoking, but I deserve them and thank God that He let both my skin and my lungs off so easy. And the crinkles around my eyes are laugh lines that I just love. I wouldn’t trade those in for a free face lift. Besides the lines go up, so I wouldn’t need a “lift”, I’d need a “drop”. Do they even have that? A face drop?
To get back on topic, people think I have great skin. I’ve had a hundred different brands and products that I’ve periodically used. But just today I had a revelation. The one constant that has regularly been applied to my face since high school is dog lick. I love my dogs, I let them kiss me and I kiss them back. Sometimes they love me so much I need a paper towel to sop up the love. Now before you get all “EWWWW” on me, keep in mind that some of the most expensive facial treatments are made from extracts of fruits, nuts, eggs, roots, mud and even umbilical cords…now THAT is gross! So whether it’s the love or the kisses I get from my dogs I look way younger than I am. Now, it doesn’t sound so bad that maybe it’s the dog lick.