Yesterday I tipped my hairstylist lavishly after seeing how my new hair style took ten years from my face. My euphoria lasted until I got home and checked out my hairstyle in the mirror. Those ten years had smashed back with a vengeance. How could I have looked so wonderful in the beauty shop and so dismal at home? Since I couldn’t possibly age that fast, the difference must be in the mirror—and possibly the lighting. It does make sense for beauty shops to have mirrors and lighting to make their clients look good. I just wish I knew where they bought them.
Although my bathroom mirror doesn’t flatter me, at least it doesn’t reveal what the mirror at the local gym does—displaying my saggy butt, baggy boobs, and bulgy belly for all to see. But in the Silver Sneakers class, all do not see. They’re too busy scanning and despising their own pitiful physiques to notice mine.