Being a rolyploy wrinklie, I find that many a morning my elasticated waist trousers whisper from the wardrobe ‘wear us, we’re so comfy’.
Then the sensible sandals trill ‘and us too -– if your feet swell, you can alter the Velcro strap.’
Ah, the joys of ageing and not really caring what others think of your style or image.
I’ve done the stratospheric pink snakeskin stillies and the Ossie Clark slashed-to-the-waist designer frocks.
I’ve spent hours buffing and puffing the bod and face. But now it’s a case of quickly sling on the slap and out of the door I go.
Yet when it comes to any publicity or website photos that I need to have done, I always request a little bit of airbrushing.
Hey, why not? Tidy up the jawline and smooth out a couple of wrinkles, dear.
In The News last week, Gosport MP Caroline Dinenage was reported as backing a new investigation into body image anxiety, due to all the airbrushed images used in the beauty industry.
Our young women are constantly bombarded with images of perfect, thin celebs.
But it ain’t gonna change. The beauty business is worth many millions.
And if they’re stopped from airbrushing, they’ll just return to glamorous, slim models cleverly lit in their adverts.
Young girls have always been influenced by the latest beauty look.
In my day (1960s) there wasn’t so much pressure on young women to be so thin and perfect.
All we had was a magazine model call Twiggy – so-called because she was so thin with stick-like ‘ twig’ legs.
But we also had curveceous actresses Brigitte Bardot, Sophia Loren and Elizabeth Taylor as role models.
What have the young girls got today? Predominantly, a load of scrawny, birdbrained, fake-boobed, talentless wannabe celebs.
But young girls think that if they can look like them, they can be rich and famous.