With the impending wedding of one of my very nearest and dearest – not to mention oldest – friends (that’s Meg for those who don’t know), and the subsequent gathering of hers from all over this fine land and far, far beyond, thoughts have inevitably turned to the fact that I’ll be seeing people I haven’t seen for quite some time.
OMG – How will I look?! Will they think I look old?! Will I think they look old?! *Not that I’m competitive. (*lie)
Ok generally I get “Oh you look great!”, or “Oh you SO don’t look that old!” (which – note to those who use this phrase – only underlines the fact that you find my actual age horrifying), but there’s no denying the fact that on a bad (read: post-red-wine) morning, I look like Keith Richards in drag. Sigh.
What can you do? Well I do yoga (though admittedly more-so to perve at Joel), and drag my arse around the parks and streets of Melbourne in my version of the Cliffy Young shuffle – never let it be said that I don’t go down kicking and screaming. But the secret my friends is something much easier.
I recall Maggie Alderson writing about a school reunion she’d attended, and that what really separated the uh-ohs from the oh-yehs was a good haircut and not dressing like a frump. I’d like to add to that a lick of lippie. There you have it – secrets revealed. Make your cheques out to “Patsyfox” – all you need is a good snip and pucker.
P.S. I have to pull a during-the-ceremony reading out of my arse in the next week, so if anyone has any ideas they would like to share, I will pretty much give you my first born, should I ever have one. Px