Roux: Hail aging, full of grace, OMG is that me?

I was browsing the wine section at the Piggly Wiggly today. It is actually pretty amazing, and I love hearing the tourists wax ecstatic when they see the offerings available. An extremely attractive woman, about my age, 58, chatted me up a bit. She had on full make-up (as did I) and was probably a size 2 (as I am not). I was looking for an interesting non-Californian red and she pointed me to a Malbec from Argentina. We talked easily and she said, “Your hair is beautiful.” It was a validation of our age, because I've let myself go completely gray.

It might sound absolutely, totally frivolous, but for women of a certain age, this is a big decision. No more artificial color or monthly appointments to touch up those roots. It is not about giving up. It's about aging gracefully.

These are tricky waters to navigate.

We might not turn heads anymore, but we strive to make the best of what we have without being ridiculous. I remember a teacher who worked well past normal retirement age. Her lipstick seemed to be a separate entity from her lips, traversing a torturous path all its own. Did she think she was making herself more attractive every morning?

Probably.

I pray that my dear girlfriends will have the chutzpah to tell me when and if I start to veer into the weird zone. “Uh, Denise, you might want to rethink that red lipstick and what's up with the eyeliner? It just keeps getting darker and darker.” I fear they won't, and people will secretly laugh at the way I look.

Does this all seem silly and self-absorbed? I am sure the online comments will rip me apart.

Trust me on this, there are millions of boomer women out there with these same concerns about growing older. We face the mirror every morning and remember the sweet blush of youth. We use our fingers to lift away the lines around the eyes and mouth. We study our profiles. Nora Ephron even wrote a book entitled “I Feel Bad About My Neck.”

We spend untold dollars on creams, serums, and cosmetics. I have dear, beautiful friends who still think makeup is a special occasion thing and go forth most days unadorned. I salute their courage, but I'm too much of a coward not to put my game face on every day.

I am certain that men have their own concerns, but so many of them seem to just look better the older they get. Younger women like their distinguished looks. They make their own brand of missteps, but from the outside looking in, I think they have it easier.

I recently added a web cam to my computer so that I can see my friends, and they can see me. OMG. Talk about relentless. No quick look in the mirror, sucking in the belly, and out the door. When did those dark circles under my eyes become a permanent part of the landscape? Didn't my collar bones used to stick out? Do I always look so tired? Note to self: Avoid the sleeveless shirts. Oy vey.

The world is not fair and women are judged, at least in part, by how they look. That's the truth of it. Whether in the boardroom or on that first date, we have to find a way to project ourselves as attractive and a player in the power game.

For me, that means negotiating a path somewhere between embracing aging and continuing to fight the good fight against time. We should resist the impulse to apologize for our varicose veins, our crow’s-feet, our laugh lines. We lack the hubris of the young, but our faces and bodies reflect a lifetime of experience.

Hey, that's worth something, isn't it?

Denise Roux is a regular columnist for the Apalachicola and Carrabelle Times. To reach her, email her at rouxwhit@mchsi.com