Mental Image

22 May 2002

As a kid, one often dreams of one's adulthood -- dream jobs (astronaut,
author, computer person like my Dad), dream homes (a favorite activity
with my friend Robert - sketching our dream mansions - full of hidden
passageways and the obligatory slide from the top of the building into
the basement, maybe a pool in the basement (I'm trying to remember where
there's an interesting Victorian building -- Massachussets? - where
there were secret passages, doors, staircases... more interesting ways
to get around than in =Clue=) and then we'd take the real estate
contracts we got from career day and sell each other the houses), ideal
family, etc.  My sisters even planned to changed their names to
something more to their liking ... invariably Samantha Fox, though I
don't think we knew of the singer/model of that name.

In a small corner of my mind, I thought of what I'd like to look like as
an adult. The difference between this and the other dreams is that one
could constructively try different looks out before fully reaching adult
autonomy - though there were attributes we knew we'd not be able to
control.

So here is what I had thought of: Wire-rimmed glasses, long hair in an
upswept-do with little wispy bits framing my face and big bangs (but not
in my eyes), taller than my mother, not too busty but with a bit of
cleavage, no poochy stomach, skinny, elegant arms, elegant nose.  The
Edwardian librarian look, in other words. I wasn't too much into
dresses, because I didn't like the dress styles of the time, but I did
like to think of dresses with huge, flowing skirts.

So let's see where I stand (and why I dreamt of these characteristics in
the first place):

Wire-rimmed glasses - I though they looked more distinguished, and
thought that, unlike my big plastic frames, they wouldn't get all the
grease marks from resting on my cheeks.  I've had wire-rimmed glasses
for quite some time now, but they get just as messy as the old owl
frames.  More on that later.

Long hair and corresponding hairdo - I've got rather long hair, but I
find that perching it atop my head is difficult - I've got a lot of
hair, but it's rather fine and liable to get tangled in any barrettes or
pins.  Most buns fall into pieces, and anything clipped on my head
eventually gives me a headache.  I have no bangs, because I finally got
tired of stuff in my eyes - even Aquanet (peee-yuu) can only do so much
and I got tired of burning my forehead with the curling iron.

And those wispy bits I thought so romantic?  Oh, I have them.  I can't
=prevent= them. They look more ragged than romantic, and they always end
up in my mouth.  Luckily, they tend to be shorter than the rest of my
hair, so I don't inhale them down my throat, unlike previous experiments
with long hair.

The characteristics I couldn't do too much about - bust, height, nose -
well, I'm shorter than my Ma (by one inch), but I'm taller than my
sisters.  I've found a few advantages to shortness on the crowded streets
of New York, but would have hurt anybody to give me two more inches?  My
nose was a total loss - I almost don't have one.  My bridge is pretty
much nonexistent, which is why my glasses still get half-moon grease
marks on the bottom.  The cleavage is a no go - I've even gotten a
corset, and tried it out. The amount of pressure needed to make any
noticeable bust is just not worth it.  As it is, I find the absence of a
bust makes it much easier to wear tailored suits.

I've still got my poochy stomach, and don't expect ever to lose that.
I've had it since I was 12.  I'm constitutionally averse to dieting, and
my exercise program is centered on weight-training, not aerobic exercise
(though I do it for warm-up).

Finally, the slender look of my childhood that I expected to follow me
into adulthood is completely gone - if anybody told me as a child that
I'd have a rather muscular build (for a woman) as an adult, I would've
thought them silly.  My skinny legs have turned into beefy thighs and
calves, the heritage of my Mother's family.  And no, I don't do anything
other than walk to achieve such results.  I'd have six-pack abs if I
didn't have that layer of fat covering it.  And my arms have gotten big
- I had to wear a sleeveless dress for my wedding because I couldn't fit
my arms (or my wider shoulders) into traditionally-styled long-sleeved
dresses.  I'm also finding that it's becoming difficult for me to fit my
arms in those tailored jackets and blouses I love so well.  I'm going to
have to make a serious investment in a tailor soon.

All-in-all, the resulting adult meep has achiveved her dreams of
external style, but the inevitability of genetics, which I did not
consider as a child, has framed my overall shape.  I'm pleased with the
results, and now I dream of myself as a 60-yr-old woman -- completely
white hair, still muscular, and =finally= taller than my mother (she'd
only be 82 at the time... totally within her reach).

But I look at my mother's and grandmothers' hair... and I see that I'm
going to have to bleach my hair to achieve the fluffy white look in
years to come.