“Nobody looks perfect. We have to find peace with how we look and get on with life.” —Roger Ebert
March 3, 2010
So I’m entering an industry that promotes body hatred and self-loathing as justifiable and fixable feelings, an industry reviled equally by second-wave feminists and fundamentalist Christians. Here, “you look young” is an insult (it implies that you’re not actually young), the sun is the enemy, and the maturation of girls into women is considered a defect and a disease. Women who come in for facials ask me to guess their age, and I’m expected to scan their faces, subtract ten years from my estimate, and deliver the number with sincerity. I feign surprise when they tell me how old they really are. I have to admit I’m growing tired of that script.
I don’t wonder where all of these women learned that it’s bad to look your age, but I do question how they can accept it so fullheartedly. I prefer not to buy into the cult of youth partially because it’s a losing battle—we’re all going to die—but also because I’ve seen beautiful people who look every day of their 50, 60, 70+ years. Some of them wear their sagacity with glamour, like it’s a mink stole, and even those who loudly proclaim that getting old sucks radiate a kind of swaggering freedom that I can’t find among girls my age. If it’s a compliment to be called an “old soul,” why are we so afraid of looking like one?
I’m not sure our obsession with youth can be entirely undone, but I’d at least like to throw a wrench in the works. I’m tempted to tell clients how old I really think they are, explain that effective “anti-aging” can only be found in death, and recite Warning by Jenny Joseph on repeat until I indoctrinate them with a new understanding of what it means to have lived so much, how it can be a gift.
Being an “old soul” I find the “wanna look younger” emphasis quite interesting. Amidst toddle beauty contests emphasizind make-up enhancement and adult-like clothing to the growing numbers of people undergoing plastic surgery for cosmetic purposes , what do these activities say about American culture?
I earned every wrinkle and gray hair I have. I smile as well as frown and I find silver hairs on my head.I earned them through the process of living and the wrinkles and gray hair constitute my tiara of triumph of experiencing the valleys and hill of this journey called life. Let us “old souls” wear our crown jewels proudly with gratitude for every moment of laughter, love, loss and grief, and wondermentof the strength provided us.
so am i a dork for just realizing that roger ebert now has no jaw? i was clicking around on the internet and there was this story about how scientists have been able to almost replicate ebert’s voice digitally, entirely from the vast archive of phrases that he has recorded through his long, storied career. fascinated by this, and still oblivious to his now jarring appearance, i greedily clicked on the link thinking that i would be privy to some new, groundbreaking technology. i was greeted by a video of ebert using his new ‘voice’ to give an interview to oprah while she tried vainly to keep from bawling like a baby; she was asking questions about how he was able to stay so strong without a jaw and he was trying to keep it light by cracking jokes, but it was all so sad given that the jokes were emanating from a laptop speaker in a halting, slightly robotic ebert voice that sounded just off enough to be exceedingly creepy.
(you know that episode from the Simpsons when lisa enlists mr. smithers’ help in doing something or other with malibu stacy, the barbie of springfield whose accessories smithers avidly collects? when smithers boots up his computer, there’s this graphic of mr. burns popping out of a large birthday cake saying, “mr. smithers… you … are … very good .. at .. turning ..me .. on.” it kind of sounded like that.)
i don’t know what it was that drew me to this spectacle like a moth to a porch light. i think that it may be because i have seen ebert’s face and heard his voice on tv literally hundreds of times in my life and feel like i know him on a deeper level than i do. it would be like if brad pitt were maimed in a car accident like tom cruise in vanilla sky and still gave interviews and acted in movies. what would you think?
all in all, i really respect ebert a lot more now that i know of his plight. it’s kind of like the patrick swayze effect, times twenty. anyway, long story short, for anyone who doesn’t know what i’m talking about, google ‘ebert and oprah’ and you should be treated to a good, inspirational cry.