Like most teenage girls, I would spend a lot of my time pouring through all kinds of fashion magazines, and could never help myself from noticing the numerous cosmetic ads, and how incredibly perfect the women looked. Their faces were flawless. No uneven skin tones, not a pimple, not a wrinkle, not an eye brow, or even an eye lash out of place. (How was I supposed to know that there was such a thing called air-brushing?)
Of course, that is exactly how I wanted my own face to look, and the only thing stopping me was the right make-up, right? The first thing I decided to buy, with money I earned from my summer job as a car-hop, at a drive-in rootbeer stand, was some foundation. Yes, that is where I would need to start to get "The Look".
Once at the drug store, I saw that there were many brands, choices and color-tones. After reading over several boxes, I made a decision, and went to the check-out to pay. Three dollars and eighty-eight cents?! Back then, when my tips didn't add up to much more than that in a single day, the amount seemed to be highway robbery. Still, I surmised, that it was all going to be worth it. I parted with my cash, and hurried home with my creamy beige treasure.
Once home, I bolted to the bathroom to apply the magical liquid that was going to transform my skin into that of a porcelain skinned cover-girl. Using my wedding-ring finger ('cause all women know that's the one you use) I carefully dabbed on the make-up exactly as shown in the illustrations, and then, in a swirling circular motion, smoothed it all out onto my skin-- again, just like the instructions said to do.
As I took a step back from the mirror to admire my handy work, I can remember thinking--Houston, we have a problem! The face staring back at me not only didn't have the results I was hoping for, but actually accentuated my flaws. My nose became noticeably spotted with pinhead sized dimples where I had a teensy-weensy blackhead problem, and instead of covering up my acne and making it all disappear, the make-up made the red bumps look all crusty and raised. I had been duped.
Fast forward thirty years. Now, the face staring back at me in the mirror is no longer dotted with pimples, but instead, creased with wrinkles just like any other women my age. Take Nicole Kidman, for example--uhhh, okay, so that's not a good comparison. How about just like a gently used leather hand bag. Yes, that comparison will do just fine. Anyway, what did I buy last month at Wal-mart, after carefully reading and researching all of my options? I bought anti-wrinkle serum. On the elegantly-shaped slender bottle it said: "You may experience a slight tingling, burning, or tightness during use." After about the third day, that's pretty much what I was feeling. Ooooo, I thought, this is the sign that it really is working! I was so happy.
Four weeks later, and I am still waiting for some sort of noticeable result, besides the irritated, blotchy red skin--probably due to the ingredient of Alpha-Hydroxy A-C-I-D ! And let me tell you, this stuff wasn't cheap. The tiny rectangular package set me back twenty-six dollars! That's highway robbery, I'm thinking.
I am still with wrinkles, older, and evidently none the wiser. Duped again.
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