I'm pretty happy with my body, though it is showing the signs of dating from the chic 'mid-century retro' era that is so on trend in home decorating. Given ridiculous amounts of money I might be tempted to sample the delights of minor tweaking through botox, tummy tucks and face lifts, but there are other things I would splurge on way ahead of these if I had a less satisfactory lower division lotto win. I don't hanker at all for one of these ...
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| What the ...? |
... or find this look in any way attractive ...
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| Shudder ... |
... nor aspire to making even the smallest section of skin into a canvas.
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| Hate this twee crap even on walls ... at least it's not a skull ... |
No, I'm pretty happy and there is one part of my body of which I have always been particularly proud. They have featured in an earlier blog post in all their gloriously seriated beauty, nature having blessed me with the built in satisfaction of tidy toes.
Like correctly ordered Cuisenaire rods, the staircases are complete. I'm not vain enough to suppose I have the world's most perfect toes, just fairly close. I have never seen a set I aspire to more than my own. While having them pampered recently I looked up to see a large poster of a set of toes which are apparently the industry standard. Has anyone, ever seen toes that look like these?
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| Do you suppose they photoshop toes? |
I'm refering to the little toes. Does anyone really have little toes that are not snarled, twisted little specimens with barely a nail to paint? I think not! Luckily, I've got to where I am today without being burdened by extremes of body image dictated by the fashion industry and I won't be hiding my toes in shame or shelling out for 'phalange five enhancement' surgery.
