Mirror, mirror, on the wall who is the fairest...!

As you can imagine I was quite upset by this mirror image, not to say that I was that chuffed about buying presents for grownups when we had definitely jointly vowed only to buy pressies for children this Christmas - well, that’s perhaps a story for another day. Anyway, back to my collision with reality i.e. the fact that I am starting to look my age (mind your own business!) and perhaps I am not quite the sexy late middle-aged man that I thought I was - or more precisely, wanted to be.

Seeking to have my understandable fears to be set-to-rest by the woman in my life, I broached the subject with her, hoping to have my confidence lifted with a kind and reassuring few words. In fact all I could get from her was - “…think yourself lucky you still have your hair” whilst intimating that, yes - I might have a face similar to that of a welders bench, but - “looks aren’t everything you know.” Thanks for that dear heart! In truth, I have for some time wondered why creases on my face weren’t just because of my sleeping position and actually spent more than £5 on a tin of Nivea face cream without too much success.

Nevertheless, after the horror of that reflection in the mirror at the bottom of the escalator I made way discreetly to the front of the store where those women wearing ‘way-too-much-makeup’ always seem to hang out - why is that?

As I tried to summon up the courage to ask for some help regarding my ‘boat-race’ I noticed that these women are not the glamour-pusses of times past, who would look down their noses at the likes of you and me - but dressed rather like municipal parks attendants complete with dirty finger nails and chewing gum. What to do?

With my courage disappearing rather quickly, I decided against any drastic (or expensive) beauty regime and have convinced myself that those bags that appear regularly around my eyes for no apparent reason and a less than impressive jawline will have to see me to my grave along with the turkey neck and both nasal and ear hair. All this angst because I caught an unguarded glimpse of myself in a large unflattering mirror that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Without sounding too obsessive - why is it that a person can look okay verging on ‘quite nice’ in some mirrors, whilst in others, the phase - ‘a bag of spanners’ comes to mind?

A Very Merry Christmas to you all!