It was just a hair!
But the camera’s flash or the light from the window had fallen upon it in such a way that it looked a definite shade of whitish grey. One strand loose at the front away from the carefully crafted stripes that had cost a fortune at the hairdressers.
I know that I am very lucky in that I do not seem to have any grey hairs as yet – plenty of white eyebrows – but none on my head. And yet, when I looked at the close-up pictures, there it was. Bold as brass. Without even a by your leave.
When Osbasso asked me to be his Mystery Guest, I was absolutely thrilled and selected this photograph for the guess-who shot. I decided that the prominence of the hair was just me being picky. But Os commented on it too.
Aaaargh! I instantly attacked it in Photobucket with the wrinkle/blemish smoother. And took out a few forehead wrinkles in another. Done. Gone. But…
I had only the previous week taken Fairy Flutters to task for considering using an airbrushed version of her beautiful body and exhorting her to love herself as she was.
And what had I just done?
Nope. Fake photograph deleted.
I have been given a wonderful gift. A body that has retained its bloom and a pleasing shape well into my late forties. And I am griping about one possibly grey hair and a few frown and laughter lines.
The following morning I took some more photos. This time there was no evidence of the rogue hair… to my relief.
But if it had been there, I suspect I would have chosen one where it was not showing quite so badly.
I think carefully selecting the pictures that you use is just natural vanity, whereas airbrushing steps over the line into the realms of deception… of both the reader and yourself.
It is a very over-rated method of eradicating the marks of the natural passage of time. The visible signs that we have lived and loved and laughed and cried. Its ubiquitous use in any photographs in magazines and newspapers means that we have lost our instincitive perception of normal appearance and become fixated with the vain pursuit of not only our lost youthful bloom but also a simulated bodyshape which is virtually impossible to achieve naturally, leading us slowly but surely to the plastic surgeon and the botox purveyor.
So, the only time I will be using such a feature is on Ruf’s tattoos to preserve his anonymity.
Having my Cake and Eating it Too – AN AIRBRUSH-FREE ZONE
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