Imagine! The fashions of bosom and derriere change. What changes fashion? Fashion designers change fashion. It’s all commercial, you see. Money, money, money, money . . .
A few years ago, anorectic models were all the rage. A few years before they showed up, women appeared to be women for a while, and before Queen Size came lumbering along. Of course we’re gaining weight, we don’t move and too many of us eat fast food. That’s another subject.
Women who can afford - or at least pay - for so-called improvements have faux nails, breasts, butts and hair. Nail beds may develop fungus on fingers or toes. Breast enlargement is just as dangerous as many surgeries. Working on buttocks, depending on what is desired, may be dangerous, very painful and inconvenient. Wigs may cause fungus, as well. And if they are created with real hair may cost hundreds to thousands of dollars. Hair extensions are damaging to one’s natural hair and may cause other - and costly - problems.
And then there’s liposuction. Don’t! Just don’t.
As I write this, the US is galloping toward $12,000,000 annually on improvements.
What price glory?
For young women particularly, what they see on small or big screens may look good. But what do these women look like without a team of caretakers and cosmeticians?
Until we have the ability to create replacement parts from our own material, why not be the best we can be without putting ourselves in danger?
And who wants a mate based on “improvements?” I’m not referring to necessary plastic surgery to correct birth defects or the result of accidents. I’m talking about vanity. And now men are getting into the act. Fear is the factor. Aging gracefully is only in style by the fearless. Would I rather have the body I had at, say, forty-five? Not if I have to give up what I’ve gained in knowledge and wisdom through the intervening years.
We’ve already ruined some dog breeds. I wouldn’t have a dog who needed cosmetic surgery, which is why I had Labrador retrievers wearing their come-as-you-are uniforms.
At the opposite end of the scale is a scale that can accommodate enormous humans. Enormous humans are the result of a number of problems:
Fast food and riding in cars instead of walking. When city people moved to suburbs they could no longer walk to appointments perhaps miles away.
Pollution from hormones and other toxic materials - fatter beeves, for instance. And now there is a dearth of bees and if bees are not there to pollinate, produce suffers. Pollution is so prevalent that we’ll never - never - be free of it again.
Compared to the volumes of material on the above subjects, this is a drop in the oceans - all the oceans. And messing about with the human body with so-called improvements is another pollution. If you’re contemplating bigger breasts, take this as a warning:
The bigger the breasts the harder they fall. Oh, sure, you could have them hoisted up every few years and risk the pollution of the surgery and the facility in general (don’t kid yourself, all hospitals - all - have varying degrees of staphylococcus and only God knows what else).
Do I sound cranky? I am cranky. It’s painful to watch what some people do to themselves just to “belong.” When parents gift their daughters bigger breasts for their sixteenth birthdays . . . yes, some parent do that . . . it’s repulsive and should be against the law in the same way pedophilia is against the law.
No one has asked my opinion. At the same time, just because opinions are free doesn’t mean they’re worthless.
I’d suggest you eat an apple, but it may be dangerous.
Not very dangerous are walking, riding a bike and for those who would have difficulty doing either, if a Y is close enough, swimming. For peace of mind, there is Yoga, Tai Chi and other forms of meditation.
Story: For a while, a friend of mine had one of her grandsons living with her and her husband. When she’d come home from work he, even at the age of four, would run to a closet and drag out the yoga pad announcing that she needed to “do yoga.” Of course, he joined right in.
Today, even with all the problems - and there are plenty - those of us who take time to tend to our being find that happiness is almost always present.
A few years ago, anorectic models were all the rage. A few years before they showed up, women appeared to be women for a while, and before Queen Size came lumbering along. Of course we’re gaining weight, we don’t move and too many of us eat fast food. That’s another subject.
Women who can afford - or at least pay - for so-called improvements have faux nails, breasts, butts and hair. Nail beds may develop fungus on fingers or toes. Breast enlargement is just as dangerous as many surgeries. Working on buttocks, depending on what is desired, may be dangerous, very painful and inconvenient. Wigs may cause fungus, as well. And if they are created with real hair may cost hundreds to thousands of dollars. Hair extensions are damaging to one’s natural hair and may cause other - and costly - problems.
And then there’s liposuction. Don’t! Just don’t.
As I write this, the US is galloping toward $12,000,000 annually on improvements.
What price glory?
For young women particularly, what they see on small or big screens may look good. But what do these women look like without a team of caretakers and cosmeticians?
Until we have the ability to create replacement parts from our own material, why not be the best we can be without putting ourselves in danger?
And who wants a mate based on “improvements?” I’m not referring to necessary plastic surgery to correct birth defects or the result of accidents. I’m talking about vanity. And now men are getting into the act. Fear is the factor. Aging gracefully is only in style by the fearless. Would I rather have the body I had at, say, forty-five? Not if I have to give up what I’ve gained in knowledge and wisdom through the intervening years.
We’ve already ruined some dog breeds. I wouldn’t have a dog who needed cosmetic surgery, which is why I had Labrador retrievers wearing their come-as-you-are uniforms.
At the opposite end of the scale is a scale that can accommodate enormous humans. Enormous humans are the result of a number of problems:
Fast food and riding in cars instead of walking. When city people moved to suburbs they could no longer walk to appointments perhaps miles away.
Pollution from hormones and other toxic materials - fatter beeves, for instance. And now there is a dearth of bees and if bees are not there to pollinate, produce suffers. Pollution is so prevalent that we’ll never - never - be free of it again.
Compared to the volumes of material on the above subjects, this is a drop in the oceans - all the oceans. And messing about with the human body with so-called improvements is another pollution. If you’re contemplating bigger breasts, take this as a warning:
The bigger the breasts the harder they fall. Oh, sure, you could have them hoisted up every few years and risk the pollution of the surgery and the facility in general (don’t kid yourself, all hospitals - all - have varying degrees of staphylococcus and only God knows what else).
Do I sound cranky? I am cranky. It’s painful to watch what some people do to themselves just to “belong.” When parents gift their daughters bigger breasts for their sixteenth birthdays . . . yes, some parent do that . . . it’s repulsive and should be against the law in the same way pedophilia is against the law.
No one has asked my opinion. At the same time, just because opinions are free doesn’t mean they’re worthless.
I’d suggest you eat an apple, but it may be dangerous.
Not very dangerous are walking, riding a bike and for those who would have difficulty doing either, if a Y is close enough, swimming. For peace of mind, there is Yoga, Tai Chi and other forms of meditation.
Story: For a while, a friend of mine had one of her grandsons living with her and her husband. When she’d come home from work he, even at the age of four, would run to a closet and drag out the yoga pad announcing that she needed to “do yoga.” Of course, he joined right in.
Today, even with all the problems - and there are plenty - those of us who take time to tend to our being find that happiness is almost always present.