As I sit with one foot in spa water and one in Jasmine's capable hands, I read a 4 year old magazine highlighting the "latest" in beauty treatments. And I am reminded that I really need to throw away that Olay eye massage roller thing that looks like my mascara primer tube.
Why do I keep all those half used containers, jars, tubes and bottles of little miracle cures?!? They clutter my countertop, my various gift cosmetic bags, and even partially packed luggage. Why indeed!
Because each one is just that, a potential little miracle. A chance at light bright eyes not puffy dark circles. The hope of smooth, invisible pores not large, dark filled acne ones.
I mistakenly found myself in the special skin room at Nordstrom today. Some dollars later, I have a new miracle to try.
Of courae I'd prefer to be a smaller size. As I age, and as comfort plays a much larger part in my life, I will more readiy go up a size to get a less constricting fit.
Every so often though I end up with a distinct "chorizo" sillloutte, read: sausage profile. That is links of me separated by waistbands, etc. An alarm at my bedroom door would help. Or I could pay more attention to Pkin's big eye look. Lol!