Back in 70’s when Mitch and I started dating, he drew a picture of me. His photo was pretty good, I was impressed. The details were there, hair and face looked familiar and perspective was good. BUT, then I looked down at the hands and he drew reptiles! Yes, I still married him four years later, but this was quite the insult that I remember 45 years later.
I have always had hands that look like they belonged to someone twenty years older than me. On October 1st , I turned 62 and my hands were somewhere in their 80’s. I do use creams, Vaseline and other products but my guess is that my hands look like they lived through World War II because of a combination of genetics and attending University of Miami in the 1970’s where we used baby oil and aluminum foil to perfect our tan and burn! We didn’t know any better and the tan looked so good, especially with a white shirt.
If I were to choose between my face or my hands getting the brunt of this, I would choose hands every day. So I am grateful, that my face looks somewhat closer to my age; I hope I’m not fooling myself here.
It is now April 2020, and my hands are unrecognizable. How are your hands looking…?
Numerous daily washings plus hand sanitizers and cleansers have rendered my hands to finally look like the reptiles Mitch portrayed all those years ago. It’s a small price to pay for cleanliness in this new world. My hands coupled with my fabulous hair roots are the new me. As my hairdresser Morcelle Salon wrote in a note to clients, we are #RockingTheRoots. I should also let the manicurist know that I am #HandlingTheHands
Have you looked at your hands recently?