The pressure is on to look the part. Everywhere you turn there are images of scantily-clad beautiful women (or should I say girls), with their perfect skin, amazing hair, pure white teeth and perfectly pert boobs.
So I can put fake tan on, albeit messily, but thanks to some of the tanning moisturisers around nowadays at least I don’t look like I’ve dropped a cup of coffee down my legs (and milk down the back as I never could get it to look right there! Haha).
A nice tanning moisturiser on your face works wonders to make those teeth look whiter too. I know, I know, it’s a cheat. It does work though and is cheaper and less scary than a trip to the most terrifying place on earth… the dentist! Queue the scary music and a re-enactment from Little Shop of Horrors “I’m your dentist…” *shivers*
Now the hair… hmmm I have plenty, well three or four shelves, of products for my hair – please don’t tell my husband it’s that many, eek! But, unless I want to look like a grandma I have to dye it every four weeks (yes at 33!!) and despite doing that every four weeks since I was 22 I STILL manage to get dye all over the bathroom! You would think I might have perfected it by now wouldn’t you…. Oops!
So, I can fake it a lot of the time, but the boobs, argh the boobs! If I won the lottery I swear the first thing I would do is get myself a new pair. Pre-children, in my early 20s they were okay. I wouldn’t have even pondered swapping them, but post kiddies… gulp! I am a Mum and I wanted to and was able to breastfeed so along with the tolls of pregnancy I completely understand why they are the way they are. I do feel confident that I did what was best for my children and me at the time but wow, no one told me what a difference it would make.
As for my breasts now; well, I can’t even remember where they were to start with but I’m pretty sure the spaniel ears I’m now left with are in a completely different location to where they were. Push up bras and carefully selected clothing are the only way forward for me. That is until I choose the right six numbers.
While I’m at it, some liposuction and laser to reduce my stretchmarks wouldn’t go a miss. If I ever do win the lottery I fear cosmetic surgeons will be knocking my door down!
Now I don’t know if there were always images of beautiful people around, or whether I’ve only just become aware of the pressure to look beautiful all the time because I have extra reason to feel inadequate. It’s so much easier for my husband. He looks the same as he did before we had children. In fact if anything he looks better. Age looks good on him. Whilst I’m really starting to feel the pressure to look younger, prettier and thinner and the older I get, the worse it gets and that has really surprised me.
There has been a lot in the media recently about girls and boys are worrying about how they look at a much younger age and I am confident that is the case for some young people, but for me at least it seems the older I get, the more I hate my body and the more of a struggle it is to keep up with the youngsters.