If it weren't enough that we as women have to bleed from our vaginas once a month, gain a shit ton of weight carrying children, endure the horrors that be childbirth, we also have to age. Not gracefully, even.
It's no secret that men tend to age better than women. They look distinguished, dapper, regal. We look like a Coach bag someone left in the back window of their car for three seasons. Crows feet, deep wrinkles, and the constantly feared turkey gobbler neck. That's just how shit shakes out for us as women. I've accepted it. Kind of.
I was recently talking with a friend about our celebrity crushes and I found that my list seemed to lean toward men that were, well, older. That's when it occurred to me that most men somehow just hop right over the mid-life 'I'm falling apart' struggle and straight into sexy, distinguished hotness.
Tell me I'm wrong.
These men all went from hot to hotter. Balding? No problem. They just shave their heads and look totally badass. Crow's feet? Nah. Those are experience lines. Gray hair? Bitches love gray hair. How do they do it? Sexy bastards. Sigh.
My husband is a daily reminder that men reign supreme when it comes to the aging process. Somehow he wakes up more attractive every single day and I'm just sitting here like "Is this a varicose vein or nah?" Aged wine is savored, vintage clothes fawned over, but a vintage woman? Meh.
I guess it's back to Botox, Spanx, & a good dye job. But in the meantime, I do have goals for my golden years. But that's a whole other post.