“Product Promises” leave you empty if you have not worked on feeling good on the inside.

Over the  years I have bought into a myriad of products and clothing that made promises to lift, tuck, flatten, erase, lengthen, lighten, remove, reduce or enhance. I’m afraid to think about the money I spent on these items that essentially consist of creating illusions. I’m sure there are thousands of women like me all over the world. I have found that as I’ve gotten older that the comfort and enhancement that many of these products offer often comes from not buying them. Still, every once in a while I am seduced into looking into whether or not a certain item really does what the retailer says.

I often get commercials for the “ Genie Bra” on my computer.  My imagination which is rife with humor started thinking of what a “Genie bra” might do. Could you rub the bra and get your wishes to come true. And where does the Genie live? Perhaps under one of the shoulder straps that the company says is wide and comfortable. I still look for jeans that have a shape but don’t strangle your thighs, and either come up too high or are so low you could get arrested for lewd exposure. Yes, I know there are companies that have jeans they say are for all body types, and I have friends who swear by them. Maybe, just maybe they haven’t seen a body like mine, since I can never get a pair that fit without feeling suicidal.

Makeup used to be one of my favorite things to shop for. I particularly love the eye shadows and blush, but I’ve gotten away from having to drive myself crazy trying to emulate what makeup artists do when their trying to show me how a certain product can open my eye more or diminish lines and lessen age spots. They often give you a chart to follow which is like having Map Quest for your face. I often end up looking like I’m auditioning for a circus act. I have finally had some epiphanies that have made my life much easier. Not wearing a bra unless I have to, is extremely comfortable. It gives the “girls” a vacation from bra prison. I have found some loose comfortable pants that allow easy movement and underwear that fits, but doesn’t constrict. I still love eye makeup, and hip fashion, but I have also come to realize that all of promises retailers make on how good you’ll feel once you wear their stuff means nothing if you haven’t worked on feeling good on the inside.

Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall…. I am totally in love with myself.

I find as I get older that I am becoming exceedingly impatient with what I perceive to be the cult of “obsessive self betterment”. I often surf the channels on my TV in order to get a pulse on  what’s happening, but more importantly it often gives me material for my books and columns. Last week I happened upon a popular talk show where one of the guests was airing  her dirty linens, as per usual. The rhetoric was familiar. Not enough love and acknowledgement had been given to her, leading her to marry and divorce several bad boys and give birth to enough children to fill a day care center. She was also overweight, was a heavy smoker and was addicted to shopping. The “expert’ concluded that once she was able to love herself unconditionally she would make better choices and therefore be able to sustain loving relationships. Now, I do agree with this to a certain degree, but let’s face it, how many of us are completely and totally enamored of ourselves? If I wait till I’m totally in love with myself before I can relate to others, I’ll be either exhausted, dead or living in a monastery. Self esteem, self-confidence,  self-expression, has become the mantra of the twenty-first century. Much of it has little or no fun attached to it. It seems in order to evolve you need a hair shirt mentality.

Is it possible for us all to get rid of our dysfunctional behaviors? And if we do what will happen to Jerry Springer?  Becoming a mature adult whose goals are to be more humane towards oneself and others is an admirable goal, but my grandmother had those concepts covered and she never read a self-help book. I also think she was too busy. When you’re making your own spaghetti, walking to stores, and don’t have a TV or a lot of magazines to tell you your chin hairs, floppy upper arms, and toxic parents are the cause of your misery, you essentially have no choice. Is that good? Who knows. That generation, often called the greatest generation, has researchers on longevity declaring them as  being the most resilient. Many of us now live with the illusion that once we can overcome all our limitations, the sky’s the limit and we’ll be eternally happy. This mentality is sure to produce more dysfunction. Somewhere in the middle lies a wholesome reality. It’s called “moderation”.