Last week I saw a show on TV where they take a couple of women to whom 'time has been unkind' and then, via a selection of procedures, potions, and pills, attempt to make them look years younger that they did to begin with. Clearly the examples they pick are in pretty poor shape to begin with and both easily looked 10 years older than their actual age for a whole host of reasons.
After all the various cosmetic magic has been completed on the two woman each one is placed in a room, dressed and coiffured, surrounded by her friends and family, whereupon a mirror is thrust in front of the individual to reveal her new look. Now this hasn't all happened in the space of a few minutes, in fact it must have taken many months in some cases, so how they now look really can't be that much of a surprise at all. However, despite this all the women present seem to break down into uncontrollable floods of tears, of course accompanied by the now obligatory fanning of the faces with hands. I should point out that by now the individuals concerned do look a lot better than they did to begin with, but then I would too if I was being filmed in soft focus after having had a couple of thousand pounds worth of industrial strength cosmetic work.
What the heck is that all about! I can't ever remember getting emotional about getting tarted up in a suit just before I head off despite my wife telling me how well I scrub up. I've never even had a lump in my throat when one of my friends has been wearing a new pair of jeans after just having his new haircut. What is it about clothes, a bit of make-up, and a new hairdo that makes women want to cry?
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