What Price Beauty?

So, I am knocking on the age of 50. Not there yet, but it’s a lot closer than 40. At this writing, I will be 48 in less than 2 months. I am seeing the wrinkles and gray hair of my parents when I look in the mirror. My now adult children tease me about being “old”. I am a grandmother. I have arthritis. I often walk a bit slower than I used to. I am supposed to dress more “age-appropriate” whatever that means. I’ve been told it is time to cut my long hair because long hair isn’t for “older” women. It is getting more and more rare that a nurse asks me about my last period when I go to the doctor. I have the wisdom, or at least I hope I do, of things I have learned over the years.

I have learned that all arguments don’t have to be “won”. I have learned to pick my battles. I have learned that softly spoken words make a bigger impact than yelling. I have learned that I don’t have to be in such hurry all the time - things will wait, people will wait, the light will turn green in time and chores will be there when I get to them. I have learned that schedules for every little thing in my life are more of a bother than a helper. I do not have to eat lunch at noon, nor do I have to have dinner ready precisely at six. I have learned that nothing is more precious that a grandchild saying “I love you”.

I have learned that eating a piece of chocolate cake will not kill me or make my waist increase by 6 inches. I have learned that wearing make-up is not a mandatory thing, nor is spending hours on my hair, nails, or clothing choices. Comfort really is a style. I have learned to be comfortable in my own skin, even if that skin has stretch marks from having babies, it sags in places due to gravity, or it weighs more than the physicians standards chart recommends. I have learned that I am me, a one-of-a-kind and I’m perfectly fine with that.

I am comfortable. I see so many women, even those much younger than me, in a constant state of depression due to aging. Oh, depression? They have a pill for that. See a new wrinkle? They have a cream for that. Discovered gray hair? They have a dye for that. Have a flabby belly after the kids were born or a sagging set of breast? They have a knife for that. Money, money, money by the tons is being made from life’s little insecurities. I’m sure if there was a magic wand that we could wave, there is something we each would change about ourselves. With just a wave of the wand and tah dah, a nip here, a tuck there, thicker hair, uplifted bosoms and bottoms. That poor wand would be worn out in no time! No one seems to be satisfied.

I looked up a few prices online. As with anything online, the variables are many, but, good for a basic idea. The average price of liposuction from the hips is $2,400, the butt $1,800 and the outer thigh region about $3,000. You need to add around $1,600 for “non-surgical fees”, whatever those are. The price for a tummy tuck will set you back somewhere between $3,000 and $8,500. Ok, so on to the face lift, which will run between $7,000 and $9,000, a forehead/brow lift runs $3,500 - $5,000, eyelid tuck, upper and lower, $4,000 to $5,500.

So, let’s say you’re not financially able to spend this amount of money on your looks. Take a quick run to your local big box store or neighborhood pharmacy for some of the over-the-counter miracles. At one of the chain stores online site, I compared some prices. You can get a fake tan, wipe away years of age spots and wrinkles, firm, tone, tighten and plump your skin, all for anywhere from $8 to $50. Of course, when you empty that product container you just bought, you get to spend that amount again, and again, and again. Now add in the cost of make-up to make sure that you get the biggest bang for your buck out of that high-dollar cream/serum/goop. You’ll need concealer, foundation, bronzer, lip liner, lipstick, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, blush, eyebrow pencil, and of course, all the sponge applicators and brushes to apply it. While you’re in the cosmetics department, walk on over to the hair care aisle and grab a bottle of whatever color you need to get rid of those pesky, aging gray hairs.

Well, well, you look fantastic! You’ve suddenly got new hair and a new face, what’s next? Grab a push up bra to defy gravity, a pair of shaping, slimming panty hose, or go all out for some of that new wonder garment called SPANX. Great – face, hair and now body. Aren’t you just fabulous? Aren’t you proud of yourself? You’ve just spent a fortune to turn back the hands of time. Don’t pick up the grandkids, they may mess up your make-up if they hug you. Don’t you dare wash the dishes or do any housework, it’ll ruin your hands all covered in that age defying lotion. Don’t kiss your husband, it will smear your lipstick. After all the running around you’ve done buying the stuff to look this good, don’t take a nap either or you’ll smudge your make-up and muss your hair before dinner. Come on. Really?

I’ll never be the one who is too primped to play. I’ll not be the one whose house goes untouched for fear of breaking a nail or chipping the polish. I’ll not spend money foolishly to erase my life. I’ll spend my “beauty allowance” on a kite to fly with the grandkids thank you very much. I refuse to carry three pounds of make-up in my purse. Every single wrinkle I have I earned, many of them caused by smiles and laughter, especially the crow’s feet around my eyes. Every gray hair shows the world that hey, I made it another year. I have lost several friends in the last 4-5 years. I’ll keep my gray to honor them.

I’ll never be afraid of smudging my make-up by snuggling with a grandchild in my lap. Ok, so my hair is simply pulled back in a not-for-my-age ponytail. My grandson likes me to tickle him with the ends. I don’t wear eye shadow, but my eyes are just as blue as they were when I was 16. I don’t have a bikini body, but then again, I never have so I don’t miss a thing. I figure I’m built sturdy to be able to handle what life hands me, and boy, has it handed me a lot! I am not a hard body fitness freak, I am soft. This means my grandchildren have a soft place to spend time playing, talking or napping. I am big enough that my husband has something to hold on to without feeling like he’s going to crush me.

What price are you willing to pay for beauty? Or perhaps I should ask what price will you pay before you realize that true beauty comes from within? A real woman (or man for that matter), is supposed to age. We’re not meant to be 20 forever. Gravity does indeed work – it’s a law you know. I spent a weekend not too long ago with a cousin who just turned 89. She has been a wife, a mother, a grandmother and a great grandmother. She is now a widow, but she has enjoyed her life. She has never wasted her time or money on the foolish notion of staying forever young. Her mother lived to be within a few months of turning 100. Oh, that I may be as lucky.

When indeed it is my time to leave this world, I want to be remembered not for any outer beauty. Not for my perfectly coifed hair, my impeccable make-up, or finely toned body. I want my family and friends to remember my cooking, my smile and the sound of my laughter that caused many of my wrinkles. I want them to remember how I loved music and loved to dance. I want people to remember how my husband looked at me as if I were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. I want my grandchildren to one day tell their grandchildren that I was always there for them, that I had a soft lap for sitting in, and that I used the end of my graying ponytail to tickle their belly. What price beauty? Mine is free. How about yours?