an 80s postcard from California

I thrifted this dream bikini last weekend, and the California weather has insisted that I wear it immediately. Take that mother nature, I'm wearing a bikini in the fall! Unfortunately, the bikini is too big for me, which is of course a tragedy of the greatest order. If anyone is in the market for a pastel 80s bikini that perfectly matches pink triangle-shaped Moving Sound cassette players, please do let me know.  I may reluctantly sell it to you.

In other more personal news, I have wrinkles on my face, lots of them. I have spent the last couple of months fretting over every new wrinkle that has taken residence upon my face.  I wish I could say that I wear my facial lines with pride, that I am beyond dwelling on such trivial matters, that the aging process and the thought of dying don't scare me, but this is not/has not been the case. While sitting in traffic or judging the quality of a photo of myself, I have scrutinized my face with a monomaniacal intensity. And since I’m not one to obsess quietly, I’ve engaged all the women in my life in the discourse concerning the wrinkle epidemic that has been overtaking my face. One friend suggested using Vaseline on my face to add moisture, which I immediately tried, only to break out like a teen after just a few nights of lathering.  Luckily noone had suggested taking a peepee rag and applying it to my face as my dad used to advise when I was a child pondering how to get rid of my freckles; I may have tried that too. I have never been one to dwell on my imperfections, so I was surprised that this obsession lasted as shamefully long as it did.  It overtook me, and it was not until fairly recently (like yesterday) that I stopped and reflected upon the damage I was doing to my Self and on how far I had strayed from being the person I want to be.  Wrinkles are inevitable, and though I have a long way to go before being Zen on the matter, one day I shall be able to say, “With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come” ( William Shakespeare).

All that being said, I ended up purchasing this anti-age cream and it did, in fact, help to diminish the appearance of fine lines, but of course no cream can erase the deep fissures created by obsessive self-criticism.

Love yourselves and each other,

Crystal Lee

*** Update to this blog post: I hope this post isn’t perceived as grossly inappropriate given the aftermath of Sandy in the East Coast. Sorry if I did offend anyone. I certainly wasn’t expecting such a tragedy. What is most saddening to me about a natural disaster of this magnitude is the loss of life. It leads me to reflect on Katrina, which was far more deadly, killing nearly 2000 people in Louisiana and Mississippi. My thoughts and prayers go out to those who have suffered,  and especially to the families who have lost loved ones.