The Cost of Beauty
January 17, 2010
Thirteen years ago, my husband took me to Las Vegas for our anniversary. Late on Friday night, we checked into Sam’s Town, a nice enough casino a few miles off the strip, even getting a casino view room so we were treated to a room’s view of the nightly light show.
Saturday morning, we left bright and early and spent the day at the newest casino in Las Vegas at the time, The Bellagio. We did brunch, toured the museum, gambled, looked longingly at the pool area (you had to be a hotel guest to actually make it past the bulking attendant checking for room keys), and watched their water and light show once the sun set.
Upon returning to Sam’s Town I was struck by the difference in clientele. Sam’s Town people were MY people, blue jeans and jackets, sneakers and shorts. But, they were also looking rather worn out compared. I looked at Bill and declared, “I want to be with the beautiful people back at Bellagio’s.”
That was the day I learned, money does buy beauty. Now, I’m talking outside beauty: not in-the-eye-of-the-beholder beauty but in the judge-a-book-by-its-cover beauty.
Thirteen years later, I am investing in that outside beauty because at my age I can use any help I can get. But this week, I must admit, was rather expensive.
First I had to get my nails done. When I turned forty, my nails began splitting and cracking along the tops no matter what vitamins I took or which oils and polished I put on them. I broke down and gave into doing what was necessary to preserve, wll, not my dignity, but my waning youthfulness. I love the way my nails look when done, thick and full of natural color. I don’t like paying the forty dollars every other week to have them done, nor the hour and a half it takes to have them done. Plus, I tend to come home with little nicks from all that drilling and sanding – ouch.
Then this week was week 5, week full of roots and scrabby ends or time to have my hair done. Another investment of money, I’ll let you guess, just know it’s was quadruple what I used to pay at Fantastic Sam’s when I was younger. Then there was the two hours spent in a chair with my hair slicked down with goo.
It’s a good thing I make good money, but really.
Plus, how do I have time for all this? I never, never scrimp on my beauty rest – not that it’s doing any good since it didn’t prevent cracking nails and graying hair, so these appointments are cutting into my watching trash tv time. A shift in priorities at my age is difficult.
And let’s not even get into how none of this is helping the wrinkles etching themselves more and more deeply into the areas around my eyes and mouth. Laugh lines, my @**. Those are concern lines and I’m rather concerned about what they are doing to my presentability in the world. And because I’m spending all my money on getting my nails and hair done, I really can’t afford the face lift I want.
Yikes, what’s an aging woman to do?
And, guess where we’re going for our anniversary this year? The good news is we can now afford to stay at the Bellagio or any of the places on the strip. The bad news is MY people are at Sam’s Town.
This week I will save my pennies and nickels and dimes for the cost of beauty.