I’m in the middle of a midlife crisis – yes another one. Collagen tablets, vampire facials, bee pollen, I want them all to help fight off the wrinkles
• I GOT the fright of my life the other day when I was in the car. Properly shook I was. I’m still not the better of it. Before taking off I was doing my usual mirror check for facial hair (oh yes, and oncoming traffic obviously), and caught sight of this very fine, but very ‘present’ black hair, measuring at least two inches on my jaw line. I’ve already admitted defeat to the chin area (if that’s TMI, jog on), but this is territory I thought I was well in control of, so it was upsetting to say the very least. Also to everyone in my life who is supposed to love me all I can say is, cheers for that lads, I could have handled the truth (eventually).
• The ageing process is a bit like a runaway train. Once it starts, not only does it not stop, it just gets faster, and you can either admit defeat or take it on as (another) full-time job. A bit like Cher, you can dedicate your life to turning back time. Now, there’s no need for anyone to come down on me like a tonne of bricks and start lecturing me that age is just a number, that I should be glad to be alive, and to get over myself. I get that, thanks Karen! I’m fully aware that all I need is a healthy, functioning body, and yes I’m truly grateful for it – but we’re all surely allowed a bit of a moan sometimes, and this is my week for it, ok? Glad we got that sorted.
• A comment by the six-year-old a few days after ‘The Black Hair’ incident didn’t do much to boost my latest mid-life crisis (I think I’m on the fourth?) either. She jokingly patted my tummy, and referred to it as a ‘jolly belly.’ Now, I’m not sure if that was meant to be a ‘jelly belly,’ or some sort of an unconscious reference to, I don’t know, Santa Claus? Either way, I didn’t like where she was going with it. And because, rightly so, I don’t want to pass on any negative body issues to her, I had to laugh it off before scurrying to the only full length mirror in the house to assess my ‘jolliness’,
… feeling anything but.
• Now I’m obviously not a supermodel, men have never fainted in my wake or thrown roses at my feet, and people don’t gasp when I walk into a room. Nothing like that. I also feel I should point out that I’m not vain, not in the least. In fact you could even accuse me of being the opposite and not caring in the slightest what people think of me. But having said all of that, the subtle (and not so subtle) evidence that you’re ageing takes a little bit of adjusting to. If you’re still in your collagen-producing years, you won’t get it, so just take my word for it (and take lots of pictures of yourself too).
• Before, all you’d need to do to regain that healthy, youthful glow would be to knock back a glass of hot water and lemon first thing in the morning for a few days. That and a few early nights and you’d be sorted! Now my regime is so complicated it nearly needs a spread sheet (and a Credit Union loan). It sees me knocking back collagen tablets like popcorn; scattering bee pollen on my meals (on myself, everywhere), washed down with the odd shot of cider vinegar inbetween. As well as regular (eh, irregular) body workouts, I’ve got an arsenal of tools for facial workouts, with a whole shelf in the fridge dedicated to slightly dangerous looking rollers and devices that promise to reduce puffiness and enhance elasticity (oh god yes!). And yes of course I’ve got a Gua sha (even if I’ve no clue I’m using it properly … honestly, does anyone?). Are any of them making a difference? I don’t know but a bit like a placebo, they’re making me feel a bit better. It could be worse, at least I’m not in Hollywood I suppose where the pressure must be insane, even if West Cork does feel a bit like that these days. Any actual confirmed sightings of the Obamas yet, by the way?
• Apparently a lot comes down to your DNA, and if I hadn’t dedicated a lot of my 20s and 30s to sun worshipping, I’m sure I’d be in a much better place. And so would my décolletage. My mum’s got great skin – barely a fine line, and all she has on her dressing table is a tub of Nivea and a lipstick that I think dates back to the mid-80s. It’s Yardley I think, and almost qualifies as a family heirloom at this stage.
• So maybe it’s a case of less is more? I have been hearing great things about the vampire facial, though, which draws blood from your arm, and applies the platelets back onto your face, and yes of course Kim K is a fan. I’ve just Googled it – bloody hell! I think I’ll pick up a pot of Pond’s Cold Cream and take my chances.