ABCNews

  Wash. Post

  Newslink

  Opinions Letters to the Editor Editorials Columns

Dazed and Confused

LEE DRESSELHAUS / L’Observateur / August 4, 1999

So. Did anyone see the news article the other night about the lady whoironed her face? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, doesn’t it? But it’s not. On one of the evening news broadcasts there was an article aboutthe latest method for combating the effects of aging, face ironing. Really.Face ironing. I saw it. Must have been a slow news night. It’s supposed toremove wrinkles. And according to that article, it does. And here’s how:Step one: I can’t remember what step one actually was because I was so stunned by the next several steps that I went into a momentary mental shutdown, but it involved sitting in a chair like a barbers chair with you hair and most of the rest of you covered with towels.

Step two: This part I remember. A beautician (just what is a person whoirons your face called anyway?) or technician or something then slaps a layer of some kind of goop all over your face in a layer that is thick enough to trap and doom any insects unlucky enough to land in it.

Step three: Then they wrap your face with a clear cellophane sheet like you wrap a sandwich in. With the exception of your mouth and nostrils, itcompletely covers the area that is covered in goop.

Step four: The weird little face ironer person then rolls this thing that resembles a tiny paint roller over your face again and again, smooshing the goop into the wrinkles that time, nature, and your teen-age kids worked so hard to put there in the first place. No, it’s not a real hot iron,it’s a little roller. Don’t get your hopes up, even though I agree that a hotironing procedure would have been much more entertaining as a news item.

Anyway, the face ironer person does this rolling thing for about 10 minutes.

Step five: The sandwich wrap is removed and the goop is hosed off or scraped off or something, and the new you emerges like a butterfly, face all ironed out and ready for the day. Those bad ol’ wrinkles have beenironed away. It’s supposed to last for about 10 days. Then you get to do itall over again. And once again, being the opinionated little jerk I am, Ihave a comment to make about face ironing.

Give me a break.

Who thinks of this stuff? And who let them try it on them for the first time? I get this image of a maniacal little guy chasing his friend down a hall with a face iron in one hand and a glop of goop in the other yelling, “Wait, wait! It won’t hurt!” Well, that’s not entirely correct. It may notcause physical pain, but the damage to the dignity of anyone who subject themselves to something like this is off the scale. Not that we care, mindyou. Not when looking young, or at least not looking as old as we reallyare, is at stake. Especially when the coin of the realm is youth.The human race in general and Americans in particular seem obsessed with youth, or at least with the appearance of being youthful. We go togyms, spas, retreats, and counselors to deal with the unavoidable fact that we are getting older and will continue to get older as long as we all shall live. We take vitamins and other supplements and slather on skincreams or use hair dyes by the gallon to slow this process down or hide it – as much as possible. And you know what? We should all get used to thefact that all that stuff will only do so much good. With any luck at all,we’re going to get old. Get over it. Now, don’t get me wrong. All this philosophical stuff is all well and good,but I resent the fact that I’m aging as much as you. Maybe more, since Iwas never a basket of flowers in the first place in the oh-so-nice-to- look-at sense. I become especially and acutely aware of the unfortunatefact of aging when I get up in the morning and take a look at myself in the bathroom mirror, straight at the morning uglies in full bloom. Yeesh.That’s a face that makes me want to run screaming for the hills. But itdoesn’t make me want to iron it.

I just cannot bring myself to dye my hair, much less iron my face. I raiseda daughter. I deserve every wrinkle I have, and every gray hair is amonument to patience and experience and the ability to restrain homicidal impulses. I still refuse to grow old gracefully, but I also refuseto subject myself to the indignity of something like having my face ironed.

And besides, it’s like painting over rust. It only looks good to other people.You always know what’s really there. They can only guess.And if what’s really there is good enough for you, it should be good enough for them.

Best viewed in 4.0 or higher Copyright © 1998, Wick Communications, Inc.

Internet services provided by NeoSoft.