I am sick and tired of seeing photos and articles celebrating the looks of FOF actresses. Why shouldn’t they look great? Do they turn into beasts when the clock strikes fifty? Do they lose their style and talent (assuming they have either)? Do they shrivel up and die?
FOF women all look great, whoever and wherever we are and whatever we’re doing—doctoring, teaching, sitting on the Supreme Court, painting, writing, selling, managing, building houses, building companies or taking care of our families.
It takes a lot of work to keep up those perky breasts, tone those arms, flatten that stomach and smooth that skin, but it takes a great deal more to have soul, strength, stamina and style. FOF women the world over have all that, and more.
It’s painful to see our vacuous media continue to define us by how we look on the outside. I am thrilled when women like Kathy Bates and Helen Mirren bare their less-than-glam butts and breasts.
When a reporter asked Helen Mirren if she felt that people were upset because she’s willing to flaunt her body at an age beyond the Hollywood norm, she quietly replied, “Well, too bad,” cracked a knowing smile and started to laugh.
0 Responses to “Mirren, Mirren in the tub”
Heather Chapple says:
ah….. great Inspiration……then there is Raquel Welch vava voom tooooooo…think genetics may help the outside but it is still the inside that gives out the real karma!
Toby Wollin says:
OK – ahem. Helen Mirren. My goal used to be Helen Mirren when I grew up. I’d probably accept Judy Dench, but La Mirren is the Va-Va-Va-Voom Girl of the senior set, so I’m supposed to aspire to her. And her clavicles. And her rearend. And her taste in clothes (where does she find evening wear with sleeves? If I want evening wear with sleeves, I have to bloody well MAKE it!). And her preternaturally perky poitrine. But for the moment, I’ll accept my scars from: gall bladdar surgery, one C-section, one hysterectomy, a carpel tunnel repair (yes, I do seem to be a demo model for the local surgeons; thank you for asking), one unsuccessful inner ear surgery. Also, my enlarged, arthritic big toe joint from when Bill, our Dorset ram decided to place one of his hooves through the top of my foot while leaning all 350 pounds of himself on it. And my healing broken and dislocated (I always for the BOGO deals) shoulder. So, at the moment, dear Helen’s clavicles and her poitrine are a bit out of reach; I’m going for full use of my shoulder, arm and hand and being able to weight lift over my head. The physical therapist says it’s entirely possible. No comment on my rearend, however.