Cher Me - Being 60 (week 35 - by Margaret Ullrich)

We've been taking a break from the movies this week.  

We love going on Tuesdays - It's "Free popcorn and drink day" at Silver City.

Ah, the life of a retiree.

Problem is, everybody knows about the Tuesday deal.

Especially the kids.

The kids who've been on break this week.

Bummer.

About a month ago I talked about how the movie Scrooged was a wake up call for me.  I had focused on Alfre Woodard.  The shoulder pads, the height of fashion in 1988, gave her a certain Hulk look.

Great then.

Not great now.

Okay.... I know the clothes entering their teens in my closet have to go.
Ditto for the clothes old enough to vote.

I still have a problem.

I've watched What Not to Wear.

Clothes are just the first half of the show.

Then there's...  MAKE UP. 

Bronzers... brushes... blushers... Oh, my!!

The problem is, after a certain age, most women are clueless about makeup.

The magazines aren't much help.

I mean they were great a few years ago. 
When I was a teenager Cosmo was my bible.  

But it doesn't help to see articles titled
What makeup to wear when you're in your 20s... 30s... 40s... 

Duh.

I'm 60.  

I still have makeup I bought when I was 40.

I learned how to use it when I was 15.
In the 1960s.

That's not a good thing.

For those who don't have an ancient history book handy, in the 60s the entire eye was surrounded with white (think of a raccoon) and eyeliner was applied with a trowel (think of Liz Taylor in Cleopatra).

Even Cher looked like a raccoon Cleopatra in the 60s.

A few weeks ago Paul and I saw Burlesque.  

There Cher was.  

On the big screen. 

In a twenty-first century movie. 

Not a period piece.

Lookin' good.

Hurrah for Cher!! 

Cher's eyes looked like she'd just been slugged.

So did some of the other women.
She was supposed to look like that now, in the twenty-first century.

White eye bad.

Black eye good.

It was a sign.

Baby steps.  Baby steps.

Now, what do I do with the rest of my face?