What is The Boyfriend Shirt?
What is The Boyfriend Shirt?

Ageing Disgracefully.

Ageing is a fickle beast. When we are younger we can't wait to get older however as the years literally fly by (how is it actually 2017??) an anxiety builds. Are we doing enough? Are we hitting personal and socially prescribed milestones? Where the flip did my metabolism go?

I woke up the other day and stared in the mirror, only to see a wrinkle staring back. At first I was convinced I had slept strangely and it would sort itself out but alas years of anxiety driven brow furrowing had indeed made it's (maybe) permanent mark on my skin.

I started by trying all the fun creams that all the gorgeous and smooth skinned beauty bloggers prescribed but this bad boy was hanging in there. Next, my mind turned to botox however while considering this I went to a friend's house for dinner only to watch his brow droop lower and lower as the evening progressed from a botox date gone awry. Needless to say this was both amusing and disconcerting and I shelved my date with a doctor for the time being.

It finally occurred to me - what if I just left it there? It was only vanity driving me to actually rid myself of this small furrow for the sake of looking a little bit more like the fresh faced 18 year old I once was. But what was the point? It wasn't affecting my happiness so why did I feel that pressure to 'fix' it. We are surrounded by glossy images of beautiful, fresh faced women but even those women don't look like that in real life so why should I hold that up as my own benchmark?

For now, my wrinkle is staying. I may go ahead with that botox date in the future but if and when I do, it will be for me, and only me. In the interim I am going to have fun with more targeted skin care and nourishment because while 18 year old me was super fun and could down tequila shots like nobody's business, 28 year old me has earned the right to a bit of pampering. 


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  • Klara Donovan on

    For me it’s the grey hairs. No, actually, we skipped grey and went straight to white. In a big old random patch of my head, nowhere else. I blame my Dad, who was completely grey by 30. Eeeeep.

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