Ruminations

Blog dedicated primarily to randomly selected news items; comments reflecting personal perceptions

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Me, Naturally....


You do give thought to such things. Particularly if you're a woman, since women seem more attuned to such matters as how best to represent themselves in a physical sense. Among women there is an awareness that, in public, we are, in a sense, on show. So, to be or not to be - natural. Fact is, it seems to me that some women gravitate toward embellishing their natural attributes, while others don't.

Sensibly, one might be satisfied, for example, with one's natural endowment if that reflected a natural attractiveness, a bequest by nature. While those whose DNA hadn't predisposed them to attractiveness-by-nature might seek to enhance what little they have by the use of cosmetics in the short term, and more dramatic enhancements with the help of cosmetic surgery in the long term.

That's not the way it seems to work. From simple observation it becomes clear that some very plain-looking women will accept the genetic cards they've been dealt and still eschew attempts to make themselves look more attractive by denying the use of cosmetics. While other women whose natural attributes can be spectacular still eagerly adopt the use of cosmetics in the belief that this will make them even more attractive.

Women seem to fall into two clear categories; those that seem more or less content with what they have, and those who feel "every little bit" of enhancement of natural attributes helps. Whether it helps their internal self-regard, or their allure to those of the opposite sex, is, I suppose a matter of personal need and taste.

I've always been one of those who felt no affinity toward the art and use of cosmetic enhancement. Although to be truthful, when I was young I thought that those who took the time and developed the skills to apply cosmetics were to be somehow admired. I soon felt otherwise as I matured and though I remained interested as an observer, I had no wish to paste goop on myself in an effort to become what I was not.

The fact was, even though women seem to be born to be self-critical and never seem to be quite entirely satisfied with themselves, I was as happy with my choices as I was with my natural endowment. Exceptions shall go unnoted, since I never felt inclined to do anything about them. I was even naive enough at one point to consider pierced ears somewhat related to self-mutilation.

I did succumb to having my ears pierced, in my mid-40s and have never regretted it. And I do recall feeling surprised and somewhat let down when for the first time I saw a young woman whose looks I had admired, sans-cosmetics first thing in the morning. She looked positively dreadful; wan, creased and colourless. Twice her age I looked far younger, my skin more elastic and firm from the time I awoke to bedtime.

Once she got her make-up on, though, she shone. But who was she? Was she the person I was familiar with in full cosmetic regalia, or the one I'd come across one early morning and surprised in a cosmetic-naked state? And who really wants to be someone who walks around with a mask all day only to wash it off before bedtime, and retire as someone completely other.

I did have a brief and unsatisfactory flirtation with hair colouring when my hair began turning grey at a rate faster than I could tweeze out the offending strands. Then wisdom returned and I allowed my hair to be what it is. Much as my brief acceptance of hormone replacement therapy, pressed upon me as a necessity by no fewer than three doctors was ceased by me when I realized I was being manipulated by an industry into medicalizing myself for a natural condition.

So now I'm 70 years old. And I'm me, myself, and none other. What you see is what I am. Although I can scarcely believe it. Grey hair, wrinkles, all hardly fought, but hard-won. Ageing is not something one struggles against; one grows into one's age. It can be done gracefully, even gratefully, for a life well lived results in a graceful older age of acceptance of all that has graced one's life.

Can't fight it, but you can live it, so might as well live it like the graceful mantle it is.

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