Monday, July 14, 2014


These were the words to a song I used to hum to in my youth. I say youth because at my age, it’s all about the silouette. Remember when they did that thing at school and you took home a black silouette of yourself, and your mom hung it on the ice box (oops, refrigerator). Well, that should have been my first clue that the silouette would play a major role in my life. 

Once a woman has passed the “perfect skin,” “beautiful complexion,” “youthful look” of her existence (btw, I missed all those), she must resort to the silouette. The silouette camouflages all wrinkles, brown spots, zits (if you’re young enought to have any), blemishes, bags, tiny lines, caverns. The silouette just gives the viewer the outline of your face and body. This may sound simple until one looks at one’s profile. We are still not home free, ladies. We must still fit in the super perfect “great for your age” mold, or we are dismissed as “wtfc.” 

I have taken to silouettes lately, but not just for the above reasons. You don’t have to have perfect hair. In fact, in the photo above, you can see that there are some model-type fly-aways that give the form the natural look---just messy enough to leave the house and not an issue for the silouette shoot.

Taking photos from the back is also very helful for us seasoned beauties unless we’re trying to build a booty. Hmm. That gives me an idea: The Build-the-Booty Store. I remember when I didn’t know what a booty was; I thought it was a sock for babies. Duh.
Anyway, I had an enormous one years ago that I used to hide with sweatshirts, but one day it just fell off. (wtf) So now, in my final days, I need to grow a new one. Seems pointless, but what else will I do with my time?

Anyway, I’m just hangin’ out here building my booty hummin’ “Silouette, silouette, silouette, silouette, silouette, da da da daaa da. . . “ (Who wrote the lyrics to this song, 
Morris Albert?)

*Morris Albert wrote Feelings, whoa whoa whoa feelings:)