Every other Wednesday Krista brings you the best hair out there!
So I have a confession to make. If you look at my profile, it says, because I said, when I filled it out, that I’m 30. Well, I’m not. I am, in fact, rapidly inching toward 40. It is not at all a comforting thought. One never daydreams about being a woman “of a certain age”. This is why we girls make up tag lines like “30 is the new 20”, then “40 is the new 30”, and so on.
In my personal experience, life really started at 30. It was one of the best years of my life. There’s not enough money in the world to make me want to live my 20’s over again. It’s like an extension of your teens, but you’re saddled with all kinds of responsibilities that you think you’re prepared for, but aren’t really. When I turned 30 it was like being given a fresh new start, but this time around more worldly, with a sense of perspective and inner strength.
But 40? Yikes! On top of that, I’m dating someone who’s almost 8 years younger than I am. And who has yet to turn 30. A few years ago, the rags were all abuzz with older-woman-younger-man phenoms — Demi & Ashton, Cameron & Justin. I’ve always been hoping that it’s not a trend, but something that’s here to stay. In fact, most of my girlfriends’ husbands or boyfriends are younger than they are. The reverse (older-man-younger-woman) has been around for so long that no one bats an eye. So when you’re a woman “of a certain age”, i.e., too old to be someone else’s arm candy, it’s nice to know that you can have your own.
The downside? Sometimes it makes you feel really old. The other day I discovered age spots on my hands. Yes. On my hands. What’s more old lady-ish than that! I gasped, and BFOK was standing nearby. He asked what was that matter. “Nothing!”, I said, as I thrust my hands in my pockets, pouring sweat and shaking. Another time I caught him singing some hair-band song, which he sheepishly admitted to knowing because he had the CD in the 5th grade. “Ya”, I said, I know it, too. Because I had the tape. In college.
After a few such exchanges, the generational gulf between us started to show itself. One time he was talking about some educational computer game that “you know, everyone had to play in middle school”. I shot him a look and he immediately knew that he’d said the wrong thing. We didn’t have computers when I was in middle school! We had Pong!
He accuses me of being obsessed with age. Am I? Who isn’t? It’s true what people say, that you don’t feel any older as you get older – so you certainly don’t want to look it! The incredibly generous Stacy Gulisano sent me my own personal prescription from the Phyto hair line. In it were two new products from their line, Phytodensium Anti-Aging Shampoo and Serum. “A powerful blend of plant extracts protect against free radicals, fortifies the hair shaft and increases hair’s elasticity while reducing the appearance of gray hair”. !!!
Yep, BFOK, when you wake up one morning with bald spots, achy joints, and a chicken neck, then we’ll see who’s obsessed with age. But for now, I’ll take my ounce of prevention. After all, 40 is the new 30.