(Note to my Daughters #1)
Okay, who among we women hasn’t done this?
Saturday morning, you’re sitting with your coffee checking Facebook and email, hand on chin, and you feel it.
You flip your Ipad or smart phone to camera selfie mode to locate that rogue hair beneath your chin.
Hair spotting is tricky with these devices. There are two selfie views: down your face and – turn it around – up your nostrils. The first view is useless, unless the hair you’re trying to vanquish is on the bridge of your nose. In the other view, the hair is lost in those new neck rolls.
People don’t talk about this, but I swear it’s in the top three life-altering complaints of women my age. Right next to those other two, which I won’t yet mention.
That woman in the next lane stroking her chin at the stoplight? I promise you, she’s not pondering Sartre and the meaning of life. She’s trying to recall which room she’ll find her tweezers in when she gets home.
I know people are more likely to follow blogs that provide useful information, so in that vane, I Googled the subject of chin hair. 24.9 million entries. Apparently it’s something people want to know about. A site aimed at women in their 60s had this advice, which was as useful as any:
- Don’t shave. Apparently some women do this. Ewww. Stop it. It will come back in spades. Think Movember.
- Invest in good tweezers. Good, not cheap.
- Buy a super magnifying magnifying mirror. Don’t rely on your Ipad.
- Laser it and
- Have good friends (this one inspired by my rowing pal, Linda, who one day said, “stay still, let me get that.”)
Nothing we didn’t know, except the comfort that we’re not alone.
In my mom’s later years, she made me promise that if there came a time that grooming wasn’t top-of-mind, I would honour her dignity and have tweezers at the ready.
I did that.
So . . .
Note #1 to my daughters
When I lose the plot, be vigilant with tweezers. This matters to me at 64 and I’m betting it will matter when I’m 94.
God, I miss estrogen.