Today is my birthday
Today I am 46
Today I decided to start a blog
Today is my very First Post
Today I will eat and drink lots!
Why start a blog now? Because I have wanted to for some time now. I have been toying with the idea for a while (well, about 5 years to be exact), but like most people over 30 with children and a full time job (or 2), I simply don’t have the time to do anything for myself that doesn’t involve having to take anyone else’s opinion into account. Therefore, I have taken the plunge and this is my first post. It will probably be dull to most, but for me, it’s a bit like therapy. A diary for the world to see, if they choose, where I talk out loud (I talk to myself most days anyway), share ideas, opinions and stories. Basic stuff that doesn’t revolve around pink unicorns or Minecraft.
I am now 46 (did I say that already)…. That is 4 years away from 50. It is the wrong side of 40 and I am DEFINITELY middle aged. I used to work in TV advertising, and from what I remember, age demographics go like this 16-34, 35-44, 45-54, 55+. I also remember the brands that used to target the 45-54 age bracket, and believe me, I don’t want to go there. I like to think that they have now changed this, and added a new age bracket on from 55, leaving the ‘+’ for the 70’s.
But, I don’t feel like I’m nearing 50, most of the time. I’m definitely creakier than I was in my 20’s/30’s, and I get bigger hangovers than I used to, but on less alcohol. I can still party with the best of them, when or if there ever is a rare party to attend. I can still just about get in some of my clothes from before I had kids, and I don’t have that many significant wrinkles. However, my skin is playing a lot of other mean tricks on me, and every now and again, a new indication that I’m getting older reveals itself, and I start trawling the internet for new and wonderful potions that will aid in my desperation to fend of the inevitable jowly look, but without sticking needles in myself. Not that I’m opposed to a bit of necessary scaffolding, but 1, it’s expensive, and 2, I imagine it bloody well hurts like hell!
So I am trying to be positive about this birthday, and instead of sliding into a deep dark post-xmas depression like I usually do (normally because I’m half a stone heavier than I was going into the Christmas period), I have created a small wish list of things I need and have forced this onto my husband and sent him on his merry way.
I have a decent sized obsession with cosmetics and beauty products (after shoes and handbags that is). Now that I am approaching 50 (grimaces and weeps a little), I have become even more passionate when it comes to finding none invasive ways of ageing gracefully, naturally and as glamourously as is feasibly possible.
So with this in mind, I asked husband to buy me a cream that nourishes, brightens and lifts to the point of taking away 20 years overnight. Tough task for anyone, especially a man. But seeing as though he came up trumps at Christmas, I reckoned I could leave it in his capable hands. At Christmas, he was given a list of skin complaints and needs and then pointed in the direction of the beauty floor of Gallery Lafayette in Bordeaux (the closest thing I can get to Selfridges at the moment). The complaints – elasticity on the decline, red veins drawing maps on my face like they’re tunnelling an escape route, tired looking (not sure there’s much help for that right now unless someone adopts my kids), droopy everything. But my main focus was redness. Since I had my first child, my skin just hasn’t been the same. I’ve got pretty good genes when it comes to ageing, but only a few months after having my son, these tiny wormy red suckers started to appear on my face. I have since struggled with fighting them off, a battle where I start to think I’m winning, until they bring in reinforcements for their tiny worm army (a story on which I will elaborate on at a later date).
So when it came to choosing my birthday present (yes unfortunately, my man needs help), he may well have succeeded for a second time. My gorgeous 5 year old daughter came running in exclaiming that she had something wonderful for bedtime (hurray)! Until I revealed the gift, and she looked at me in disbelief. Where is the stuffed animal? That will be me later on rolling around with a belly full of oysters and cake darling. The little pot she was holding though, was to transform me from bleary eyed ‘mum’ into glamourous goddess while I sleep. It doesn’t exactly say that on the pot, a brand of which I’ve never heard of before, but it does claim that the product is exclusively formulated with Mont Blanc thermal spring water. Ooooh, now that sounds interesting, please read on. Eau Thermale Saint-Gervais Mont Blanc MB Active claims, amongst other things, that the water originating in the heart of the Mont Blanc mountain is miraculously protected thanks to the preserved environment. Heated on it’s 60 year journey through the depths of the earth, and completely protected from pollution, it emerges at the foot of the Alpine massif at a constant, year-round temperature of 39degrees C. Hmmm, not sure where this is going….. Its unique composition, the right proportion of elements, make this active water a ‘true beauty serum’ in perfect affinity with the skin. Ok, that bit I like. It is also pure and PH neutral so good for crappy sensitive skin like mine. The best claim though, and a reason I can’t wait to go to bed, is that it says its benefits are new skin restorer, reduces wrinkles, smooths the skin increases firmness and refines skin texture. PLUS, wait for it…. upon waking, the complexion is visibly fresh and rested, and the skin is radiant. Now where are my pyjamas!
It does also state on the instructions of use, that it can cause a stinging sensation, and if it persists not to use every night. When I applied it, it did tingle somewhat, but nothing so bad I feel it necessary to stop use, not when it can make me look like new. It has a rich creaminess to it, and after applying a not so sparing layer, I skipped off to bed to let the magic work.
UPDATE:- I am happy to report that the next morning my skin did feel and look pretty good. I will keep using, and see if there’s anything significant worth talking about in a month or so.
My friends laugh at my face cream/serum obsessions, and I’m sure there will be lots of eye-rolling when I mention the journey the water in my new night cream had to face before making its way into my bathroom cupboard. But for today, I will ignore their sniggers and the extra half mm droop in my eyelid (another ongoing battle), and I will cover up the new broken vein on my cheek. I will crack open some fizz, do a few rounds of birthday bellinis, dine on oysters and steak tartare (as I do every birthday) and put on some very high heels, even if I’m not leaving the house, because that is what us glamourous almost 50 year olds do. Happy Birthday to me!