The taker of this photo also sent me a “better” one, but I disagree. I like the fuzzy one better. Apparently, my vanity is showing.
The shot was taken at the eclipse party next door. Our host sat across the table from me, and when she suddenly saw miniature sunflowers reflected in my sunglasses, she scrambled for her phone to take a quick one. No time to waste when the light is just right! She took another for a clearer shot but, quite frankly, I like me out of focus better. Photography doesn’t interest me, but I do appreciate it and understand the moment. Waiting for the much anticipated solar eclipse, sunflowers positioned on tables just so, someone sitting in front of them wearing a tied-dyed sunburst on her tee. Then, to see a double reflection of said flowers in sunglasses — good catch.
With this “bad” photo, my vanity hit me in the face. Growing older seemed perfectly OK with me… but obviously it isn’t. Socializing women to retain their youth at all costs feels downright criminal to me. I feel duped and dream of being more man-like: get up, splash face, comb hair, out the door. Whereas I stopped coloring my hair a long time ago, I can’t wait for the time I can throw the mascara in the trash.
Most photo takers would be dragging this shot to the trash, but I shall save it to use whenever I need to put a picture of myself up for public viewing. Nary a wrinkle, nary a freckle, nary a speck of sun damaged skin.
I reflect in horror at the time spent baking my young body to the perfect point of “doneness”, convinced that my pale face would look better in a luscious brown tone instead. I often admired the growing tan line as it darkened over a summer of water skiing. The irony of this in today’s violence and public discussion of racism is downright laughable.
I’d heard for years the joke about looking better by candlelight. Oh… now I see! An old hollywood story reported that Doris Day insisted cheese cloth be put over the lens. Back in Hollywood’s Golden Age they also smeared vaseline on the lens to appease the vanity of some stars — to achieve “a soft dreamy aesethetic”. How absurd it sounded! Right… sorry I laughed at you, Doris.
Weeded out this week: The pressure to look a certain way. I’m learning to discard some of the hoops I’ve been jumping through to remain relatively relevant. Getting better at it, but this weed will take more time to eradicate!