It's All in the Neck

Sometimes, when I can't get anywhere on my current manuscript, I think about the other books I want to write. Other books that are easier and more fun. Other books  that have less persnickety heroines and wittier, sexier, stronger heroes—or, better yet, none of those querulous characters. Other books that flow out of me like water over Niagara Falls. Yeah, those books. You've got some too, I bet.

On those days, you sometimes just have let the other books take over.  So here we go with one of my other books: A Southern Girl's Guide to Aging, by Sweet Tea. 

Chapter 1: It's All in the Neck

Girl, if you're a little north of fifty on the life odometer, bless your heart, and you're worried about aging, let me put your mind at ease. I have a sweet little tool box of anti-aging wrenches, hammers and screwdrivers that are as non-invasive as they are expensive. And, girl, they work, let me tell you. 

If you do nothing else about aging...if you let your arms get flabby, if you let the crows have a field day around your eyes...address this one crucial area: the NECK. Girl, a youthful appearance depends on one thing and it is not perky boobs, a wrinkle-free face, or a flat tummy. It depends on a smooth-skinned, graceful neck, free of wattles, sunspots and offending blemishes. I can show you pictures of movie stars—like Jane Fonda—who've had it all done but the neck, and let me tell you, it is NOT pretty. The skin takes on the delicate wrinkled look of an empty testicular sac, minus the hair, or for some, the voluminous ruffles and wrinkles of a Sharpei. Take your pick. Either way, I call it Scary Neck Syndrome (SNC).

So, what's a girl to do? Why, accessorize of course! I favor the chunky necklaces worn by that 70s fashion maven Wilma Flintstone. You're looking for something the size of an Easter eggs or maybe dessert plates in an array of festive colors. Unfortunately, chunky jewelry is often heavy. Do not be tempted to substitute a scarf or a clergyman's collar. It is dead giveaway and you'll look like the Mummy's Revenge. Just look at pictures of Mary Tyler Moore, bless her heart.

No, my dear, beauty and youth are not for the weak; they are for the sneaky. Here's another favorite neck camoflager: the neck rings of the Kayan Lahwi women of Africa. The metallic rings hid SNS while elongating your neck to swan-like heights. A side benefit of this accessory is the wonders it'll do for your posture.

Distraction is the screwdriver in my tool box. Send the eye elsewhere. How about Peoria! This next trick only works if you still have or recently installed a perky bustline. Try the pendant between the breast tool. Use a pendant the size and glitza-hertz of the Hope Diamond to draw attention away from SNS. If, however, you haven't elevated your bust, then don't try this one without professional help.

I suggest you have Willamette at the Dorne Corset Shop in Silver Spring repackage your buxom beauties with a lacy, steel-reinforced, aerodynamic  Büstenhalter. I kid-you-not, she can stuff some that extra stuff under your arms and Viola! a slimmer, shapelier you in moments. Of course, you can't put your arms down, but as my grandmamma always said, "Honey-chile, youth and beauty are not for sissies." You've got to be tough to appear soft, supple and young.

 
And, while we're on the subject of your décolleté, let's be honest... let's let it all hang out here between us girls. (Bless our hearts.) Are these now pendulous appendages the most disappointing set of Christmas toys you ever got?  I mean, they were great from 16 to 38—show a little ta-ta and the world was your oyster. But then, the earth's gravitation pull kicked in.

Now I'm a smart cookie and very strategic. I saw the writing on the wall whenever I visited my great aunts with their pillowy and voluminous softness. Early on I started doing those pec exercises for "a little extra lift" as my aerobics teacher would say. Twenty years and one million pec exercises later, I can tell you it was a waste of time. My once-enviable cleavage has sunk to an all time low and that brings me to...

Chapter 2. Have your 36 Bs become 50 longs?

Stay tuned for additional installments of A Southern Girl's Guide to Aging when I succumb to distraction and need a break...bless my heart.