Speaking as someone who is looking forward to the day when we have chips in our head that will allow us to see people as they would prefer to be seen (or not -- we could dialog it), I am not anti-botox. This said, I am someone who strongly suspects that a good portion of people over 50 are going to be spending the next twenty years of their lives doing things like this, writing humorous, what-they-prefer-to-deem-self-effacing-but-will-prove-to-be-largely-self-elevating articles, on their struggles to deal with anti-agism in the work-force -- their struggles with aging -- their kids' neglect, wine and au provence, and of how wonderful it is to finally have a prince back in the white house (did you hear what that nasty person at Salon had to say about Obama?! They've had their fun but isn't it about time they put an end to it -- he's such a nice person, who is really, really, trying, and . . .).
We're afraid as a mass you'll not just be freezing your faces but all cultural growth, lest it have the least potential to cause you any anxiety, as you FINALLY come to focus on your own needs after a lifetime of selfless giving and neglect. Some of us are thinking Brazil, that is. And a bit, White Noise.
Open Saloners might hope they'll breach a Salon echelon trespass, but when Salon itself is leaving some of the pointed and wirey behind (think a Mary Elizabeth Williams over a Stephanie Z.) for the slow but fiery, it may feel scary and alone when you get here, but you'll be welcomed, made to feel as if you've become part of a club, as you would upon leaving any salon.
Wit, brutal honesty, no longer ruled, once 20's style seemed but viper threat in an upcoming age of mules.
(Originally posted as response to “My visit to the skin-torture doctor” Mary Kelly, Salon, 18 Dec. 2009)