Ah, you want to know about my physical self? If I said I looked like Audrey Hepburn would you be satisfied? More importantly, would "I" be satisfied? I have always wanted to look like Audrey. Ethereal, gamine, graceful. Sadly, though, I share almost nothing in common with Audrey, except perhaps that I adore Cary Grant and Gregory Peck.
So, what DO I look like physically? Well, I currently hover between a size 12 and a size 14. Those have been my sizes for most of my life, even in childhood. I was never obese as a child--I was plump. My slim cousin says that her mother--my mother's sister--told her that my mother always overfed me. My weight I guess was every bit the family topic I thought it was. My fairy princess sister--blonde, ten years older than I and infinitely poised and self-confident--would tease me mercilessly about my weight. Which always drove me face first into the mashed potatoes and gravy. I would literally eat until I felt ill sometimes. And even when I was happy I would overeat.
So why wasn't I obese? Hmmm, good question. At times as I lumbered into adulthood I would overeat and then stop eating for awhile. I was often ill as a child with all the illnesses that we caught in those pre-immunization days. So maybe that is why I was just--plump. Audrey was never plump.
When I stand up very, very straight, I am 5'3". Audrey was 5'6.5". Sigh, it would be lovely to have 3 extra inches added to my legs. Oh well, it certainly isn't going to happen at this stage of my life and I will need to work very hard to ensure that I don't shrink by the end of this my 6th decade.
My hair was a dark reddish brown when I was young. Sometimes, with the help of Miss Clairol, it was redder or had blonde streaks. But in my mid 30s I started to go grey, as my mother had. My mother's hair was a beautiful grey so I decided not to color it as the grey became more pronounced. And now it is quite silver and probably the thing I like the best about my physical self.
This is a photo of me with my husband. See what I mean about the silver hair? Up until recently people were surprised when I would tell them my age. Now my age seems to have caught up with my hair color.
My eyes are a dark blue; they were once described as being like the sea, changing color with my mood. But that was a long-ago description by a young man who wanted to appear poetic. And the glasses? Well, when I was about 10 years of age my teacher told my mother that I appeared to have one eye that was slightly crossed. Also that I had told her that I couldn't see the board very well. At first my parents thought that I was deliberately crossing my eyes but, having been assured that I wasn't, I was taken to an opthalmologist. After several tests, he announced that I had lazy eye and would not only need glasses but would also have to wear a patch at night and do eye exercises. Which I did for several months until the weak retina returned to where it should be in the eye socket. Or some such thing. Unfortunately, though, the strong eye had been weakened by having to do all of the work so from then on I wore glasses. Until I discovered the beauty of contact lenses in my mid 20s. I wore them until about five years ago when, in the dry climates of New Mexico and Arizona, I found it more comfortable--and my ego didn't care anymore--to return to glasses.
If I could change one thing about my current self right now--seeing that becoming Audrey Hepburn would necessitate a very drastic change--it would be to fix my teeth. Just as my parents were leery about doing anything about my eyesight but realized that I DID need to see, they put their feet down when the dentist said I needed braces. Pshaw, they though, being from good British stock, her teeth are only slightly overlapping, it's not like she has buck teeth. The problem was, though, as I aged, those overlapping teeth put a strain on my front tooth, weakening it. So that it eventually broke and had to be capped. The dentist didn't a good job of implanting or matching so I am now very, very conscious of my front tooth. I even see it in the otherwise flattering photo above.
I don't have very noticeable scars. A small bikini scar from a hysterectomy. A slight discoloration from an old vaccination. Nothing important.
Now for the hand--sorry, only one as I would need a tripod to take a photo of both and I can't be bothered. And, no those are not "my" nails. More vanity on my part. I love rings, have always loved rings. I have many more than these but it would look a bit weird if I put them all on at once. So I chose these--the bottom one on my ring finger is my 5-year wedding anniversary, the top was for my 10-year. They mean a lot to me because I had a very solitary life, romantically until I married at 46. Several painful love affairs preceding. Kind of like Audrey in--ummmm--Sabrina. Is my dh like Humphrey Bogart? Ummm, kind of in that he is very serious but very kind to me. Unfortunately he is not filthy rich so that his buying those two rings showed me how special I was in his life. And I am thankful for that. The third ring, the one on my middle finger, is an Irish ring. There are several symbols of County Cavan embossed around it. My grandmother came from County Cavan; I bought the ring when I visited Ireland last year. Now when I look at it I am reminded of a very strong woman and a very beautiful land.
And that is that for this week.
So, what DO I look like physically? Well, I currently hover between a size 12 and a size 14. Those have been my sizes for most of my life, even in childhood. I was never obese as a child--I was plump. My slim cousin says that her mother--my mother's sister--told her that my mother always overfed me. My weight I guess was every bit the family topic I thought it was. My fairy princess sister--blonde, ten years older than I and infinitely poised and self-confident--would tease me mercilessly about my weight. Which always drove me face first into the mashed potatoes and gravy. I would literally eat until I felt ill sometimes. And even when I was happy I would overeat.
So why wasn't I obese? Hmmm, good question. At times as I lumbered into adulthood I would overeat and then stop eating for awhile. I was often ill as a child with all the illnesses that we caught in those pre-immunization days. So maybe that is why I was just--plump. Audrey was never plump.
When I stand up very, very straight, I am 5'3". Audrey was 5'6.5". Sigh, it would be lovely to have 3 extra inches added to my legs. Oh well, it certainly isn't going to happen at this stage of my life and I will need to work very hard to ensure that I don't shrink by the end of this my 6th decade.
My hair was a dark reddish brown when I was young. Sometimes, with the help of Miss Clairol, it was redder or had blonde streaks. But in my mid 30s I started to go grey, as my mother had. My mother's hair was a beautiful grey so I decided not to color it as the grey became more pronounced. And now it is quite silver and probably the thing I like the best about my physical self.
This is a photo of me with my husband. See what I mean about the silver hair? Up until recently people were surprised when I would tell them my age. Now my age seems to have caught up with my hair color.
My eyes are a dark blue; they were once described as being like the sea, changing color with my mood. But that was a long-ago description by a young man who wanted to appear poetic. And the glasses? Well, when I was about 10 years of age my teacher told my mother that I appeared to have one eye that was slightly crossed. Also that I had told her that I couldn't see the board very well. At first my parents thought that I was deliberately crossing my eyes but, having been assured that I wasn't, I was taken to an opthalmologist. After several tests, he announced that I had lazy eye and would not only need glasses but would also have to wear a patch at night and do eye exercises. Which I did for several months until the weak retina returned to where it should be in the eye socket. Or some such thing. Unfortunately, though, the strong eye had been weakened by having to do all of the work so from then on I wore glasses. Until I discovered the beauty of contact lenses in my mid 20s. I wore them until about five years ago when, in the dry climates of New Mexico and Arizona, I found it more comfortable--and my ego didn't care anymore--to return to glasses.
If I could change one thing about my current self right now--seeing that becoming Audrey Hepburn would necessitate a very drastic change--it would be to fix my teeth. Just as my parents were leery about doing anything about my eyesight but realized that I DID need to see, they put their feet down when the dentist said I needed braces. Pshaw, they though, being from good British stock, her teeth are only slightly overlapping, it's not like she has buck teeth. The problem was, though, as I aged, those overlapping teeth put a strain on my front tooth, weakening it. So that it eventually broke and had to be capped. The dentist didn't a good job of implanting or matching so I am now very, very conscious of my front tooth. I even see it in the otherwise flattering photo above.
I don't have very noticeable scars. A small bikini scar from a hysterectomy. A slight discoloration from an old vaccination. Nothing important.
Now for the hand--sorry, only one as I would need a tripod to take a photo of both and I can't be bothered. And, no those are not "my" nails. More vanity on my part. I love rings, have always loved rings. I have many more than these but it would look a bit weird if I put them all on at once. So I chose these--the bottom one on my ring finger is my 5-year wedding anniversary, the top was for my 10-year. They mean a lot to me because I had a very solitary life, romantically until I married at 46. Several painful love affairs preceding. Kind of like Audrey in--ummmm--Sabrina. Is my dh like Humphrey Bogart? Ummm, kind of in that he is very serious but very kind to me. Unfortunately he is not filthy rich so that his buying those two rings showed me how special I was in his life. And I am thankful for that. The third ring, the one on my middle finger, is an Irish ring. There are several symbols of County Cavan embossed around it. My grandmother came from County Cavan; I bought the ring when I visited Ireland last year. Now when I look at it I am reminded of a very strong woman and a very beautiful land.
And that is that for this week.
This was thoroughly enjoyable, Valerie. I have a discoloured tooth from a dead nerve and root canal. I call myself, "Grey Tooth" as a joke. I'm really the only one who notices it, I think.
ReplyDeleteI have an Irish wedding band. I lost my original gold, Celtic band a few years ago. We bought them in Dublin, on our honeymoon. Breaks my heart. I love rings too, but only wear a few. I have my mom's opal ring that was a gift from her parents. It doesn't fit her any more, but it fits me.
I've had my share of painful love affairs too. I got married fairly late - at the age of 32. At least we found the "good guy" in the end. Right?
Mmmm, yeah, he is a "good guy." And looking around at all the lousy love affairs and marriages, I am glad that we are together. As Carrie Fisher said in When Harry Met Sally (one of my all-time favorite movies), "Tell me I'll never have to be out there again." At 62, I am fairly certain that I will never have to be out there again even if dh dies. I think I would rather live in a garret with my dog than face the dating game and its aftermath.
DeleteMy mom died when I was 16. My dd has her wedding ring and I have a few of her flamboyant rhinestone brooches. Never wear them but they are all that I have of her. In fact, that is why I write blogs--because my mother never kept any of her writings--if she ever wrote. I want my daughter and granddaughters to know I was someone else besides who they knew.