Beauty
janeygodley | 13 November, 2006 19:04
Sparkling white teeth with too much calcium, toned legs that have been skiing since tumble tots and handbags slung over shoulders that could pay the health care costs of a Malawian family for life. Strutting their stuff past the designer shops, a fashion show for free, they smell of
This was until I sat beside a group of three girls and two boys. A clutch of Cosmo’s, Clara’s and Monte’s, all terribly stressed and bemoaning mummy’s latest demand to ‘go work for a few months and get experience’.
‘Good old mummy’ I thought to myself.
“I can always offer to take our housekeepers dog out three times a week, or do a ‘Diana’ and work part time in a kindergarten” the gangly blonde girl swept her sheer curtain of shiny hair out of her face and nibbled on a pastry.
I have a tall, beautiful daughter, who I encouraged to work during University studies. She has been working since she was 9 years old, either in comedy performance or her own PR Company she set up at 15 years old to promote theatre and comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe. Between writing comedy sketches she is a DJ at weekends and loves her independence. Working is important to younger people, it really does give them sense of self worth and earning your own buck does wonders to their self esteem.
One girl sat there emptying her expensive handbag, Gucci purse, flashy mobile phone, Crème de la Mer face cream came spilling all over the glass table, searching for the keys of her car “I have mummy’s Jaguar today, lets all go to the Met bar for drinks, I have an account there” she bleated.
I watched them all troop out and wondered what it must feel like to be that rich, that beautiful and that young.
I was meeting a friend of mine who works in television, she is 45 years old (same as me) but she REALLY looks after herself. She looks after her skin and is constantly transfixed about her appearance.
She has already had a face lift (fuck knows how I must look; I only started wearing moisturiser five years ago). She has had botox in her forehead and recently got a new innovative laser treatment on her décolletage, she looks…..amazing and scary at the same time.
She has starved herself to make sure she is the same weight she was when she was eighteen years old and NEVER eats anything over 150 calories in one sitting, (she told me this as I stuffed a chocolate croissant into my face, 500 calories a pop).
“Janey, this is
“The older we get the harder we need to try to keep looking well, if we lose our looks the husbands look elsewhere” she added.
I looked at her emaciated frame, her thin brown skin, and her sallow eyes and shoved yet another cake into my face. I could feel my knickers nip into my waistline, my boobs were heaving beneath my black top and I wondered if I could have another cake without making her frightened.
“Listen Marla, I have been married 26 years, I have a man who knows I like to eat trifle at midnight, he wakes me up for sex at 6am and has at least twice this week had his fingers trapped in my mental hair, he clips my horned toe nails, he knows what soap powder will get menstrual blood out of my favourite knickers and once put a pony tail in my hair as I slept, if he fucks another woman its got nothing to do with how I look and everything to do with how he feels about himself or David Beckham would never have fucked that fat bird, because no one looks more perfect than Victoria Beckham”
Marla looked horrified. She sat quietly and stared at her perfectly manicured nails, then looked up at me with watery blue eyes and said “That is not helping Janey; I haven’t had a chocolate croissant since 1983”
“I am sorry Marla that was stupid of me to say that and I know I should lose weight and maybe use more conditioner and get my split ends cut, but I don’t think they are guarantees to keep a man faithful?” I added.
She smiled, leaned over and with one slim brown hand and swiped my chocolate croissant then took a huge bite.
Chocolate sauce spurted and smeared over her red lips, she licked it and smiled at me “This is better than sex” she laughed throatily.
“Not really Marla, if that’s the kind of sex you are starving to save, then fuck that girl- go shag the camera man”
We stayed a while longer and I know that I need to look better in myself.
Helena Rubenstein the famous cosmetic doyenne once said ‘There is no such thing as an ugly woman, just a lazy one”
The times in my life when I starved myself, ran four miles a day and spent hours in high heels were the saddest times in my existence, because none of it was really for me.
I eat cake and am loved; I will change when that changes.
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