Me Me Me

I still have my original face. I may well be the only woman my age in New York City (other than my immediate circle of friends) who does. I am eager to do something to “refresh” this face, and according to Vogue, I’ve waited at least a decade too long to start. When it comes to aging, denial is a powerful thing — until somebody snaps a photo and you’re confronted with those pesky pleats running down both cheeks. Who cares?! You’ve got your health! Yeah, and I also want my youth. I don’t want to become just another invisible middle-aged woman whizzing toward the AARP.

None of this would matter, I suppose, if I hadn’t formulated my theory that in order to remain happily married, couples must maintain the same level of attractiveness. The sad fact is that men in their 50s somehow preserve their faces better than women in their 50s. Unfair! But undeniably true. At the beginning of the decade, you’re a matched set. By 60, you’re Poppy and Barb Bush or John and Elizabeth Edwards. 

Women fear this fate, and the sidewalks of Southampton are packed with ladies who have subconsciously embraced my theory and attempted to stop the clock. Unfortunately, many of them have swapped their cheek pleats for an alarming death’s head look, mashed potato-like fillers or Mr. Spock eye lifts. No, no, no.

If only I could sidle up to Susan Lucci or Christie Brinkley or Demi Moore and say, “Okay, what did you do, and who did it?” None of this nonsense celebrities tell More magazine about how they have good genes and get a lot of sleep. But for now, I will concentrate on stuff I can control, like seeing my precious young trainer twice a week — in spite of the fact that Equinox is lined with mirrors that force me to confront my face as it continues its downhill slide.

I have spent too much time this week contemplating the absolute ridiculousness of Sarah Palin as a Vice Presidential nominee — and the sorry spectacle of a hall filled with Republicans cheering a woman who favors book-banning, teaching “intelligent design” and having her state secede from the union. Never mind how her abstinence campaign turned out! Can anybody imagine what the Fox newshounds would have said if Karinna Gore had shown up (secretly!) pregnant at the Democratic convention in 1992? Thank goodness Bristol has Jamie Lynn Spears to turn to as a role model!

The mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, who just got a passport a couple of years ago, is supposedly the most qualified person to be second in command to a 71-year-old with a health file as thick as a novel? It’s insulting to every woman in America to suggest such a thing. With the exception of Nancy Pelosi, the state of women in politics is pretty darn disheartening. Forget Hillary: The playing field was never even for her, and the first woman President doesn’t need to wake up next to somebody who already had the job — and wishes he still did.

As for political spouses, nobody could top Michelle Obama for class and smarts (with the possible exception of poor Elizabeth Edwards), and yet Americans “can’t warm up” to Michelle. Ay yi yi! Meanwhile, men like Edwards and that egomaniac Eliot Spitzer make all politicians seem like losers. If I had the talent, I’d write a solo stage show from Silda’s point of view. Just like Elizabeth, this super-smart lawyer basically gave up her career to keep her family going. And where did it get her?  

After Gore lost to Bush (correction: after the Presidency was stolen), I swore I would not let my heart be broken by politics again, but this election will be a huge test of America’s sanity. I just wish Obama’s mother was still alive and on the stump with her visionary son and the other three women in his life.