Friday, May 16, 2014


                                    
A FAREWELL TO ARMS

When you’re a little girl, you never think about your arms. Arms were for hugging grandpas, carrying baby dolls, stretching as tall as you can and flying like a bird. 

When you grow into a young girl, arms become flailing mechanisms for football-game-cheering and throwing hissy fits at your mother. An unpleasant odor begins to escape from the pit, so you rub scent-free stuff to hide the smell??? and keep yours arms close to your body “just in case.”

Once you are a full-blown teen, arms become embracing vehicles for boyfriends and BFFs. They have been known to nail an overhead, elbow younger siblings and balance books and backpacks. 

At the point that you realize that arms now represent a part of the female anatomy that attracts potential life partners, arm-toning becomes part of the weekly body scultping routine. Years ago, the 35-24-35 figure never focused on arms, but times have changed. Beautifully-sculpted arms are now a “given” in the “what-a-body!” image. 

By the time, I figured it all out, mine had creped-out. Yup, I’ve got plenty of muscle tone in each bicep, tripcep, whatever-cep, but it’s all surrounded by crepe, so now I’m supposed to hide them. No way. Crepe, crap, cep---I refuse to say “Farewell.” 





* Ingredients for senior sexy:  Take photo above, add photo below=Fifi's arms.