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Amanda Peet: My train left, and I continue to follow him
Actress Amanda Peet (movie "9 yards" and "Love by rules and without") wrote a wonderful essay about what she does to look younger, why she was ashamed to admit it, and as the family helps her come to terms with the passage of time.
"I have two young daughters, and they grow in the heart of American culture obsessed with beauty and youth. They used to watch as I put hours of hair and makeup, and I think this is a normal, integral part of my "work".
They know what the red carpet, and saw me with the stylist, try on dresses, jewelry and shoes to choose the best outfit — again and again, ad nauseam. Gradually they come to understand that in a profession that I chose, employment on the outside.
Their aunt, my sister went completely the opposite way. She is a doctor and, in addition, teaches medicine at the University. When, at the age of 33 her — too early — there gray hair, she was cool about it and even took it as a blessing, without them she looked so young that no one believed that she was a doctor.
Probably, if I were a Deputy Dean or a Professor of medicine at a major Metropolitan hospital, I would have considered the appearance of gray hair an advantage or, at least, God knows what event.
But I'm an actress.
Painfully obvious fact, but I'm still ashamed to admit: I care about how I look. How else can I explain that spending money on personal fitness trainer and a stylist? I bleached teeth, dyed hair, laser facial peels, and have tried numerous anti-aging creams.
More than once I asked the operator on the set to soften the light my "crow's feet" and nasolabial folds when I smile. None of this suggests that I'm getting old with dignity. And to add to all this the Botox fillers means for me to cross the Rubicon to make an irreversible step. Yes, I want to look younger (and better), believe me. The only thing that keeps me from these procedures is fear.
I'm afraid that one visit to the cosmetician-the dermatologist will be enough I'm hooked on the improved appearance as a drug. Coming for tiny, clearly specified a face-lift and come – a face like a fish of the family Blowfish. Or face, as if constantly pressed against a pane of glass. Or like I'm standing on the runway and me blowing a powerful wind from Boeing, rising into the air.
What's the point of doing something if it is noticeable? I need a means by which I look younger, not the means by which people can see that I "did something with the face."
I was not pleased with my sagging Breasts... But I'm afraid that, having a breast lift, will get some type of complication of septic shock... One day my daughter will learn the real cause of my death – I died because you voluntarily went to the hospital on absolutely not having required surgery – and he did it just to look a little more appealing for three people who really will pay attention to this change (my husband, my agent and attentive man who sends me postcards from prison).
My sister, meanwhile, do not follow celebrities or fashion – not out of protest, but simply because she is not particularly interesting. She finds shopping boring, never painted and do not wear high heel shoes. She has about four pairs of shoes, and they all vaguely resemble orthopedic.
She could give a speech about how plastic surgery ineptly translates precious medical resources; how the obsession with beauty and perfection that engulfs our civilization is exacerbated by the fact that we live in the Internet era of narcissism; and how this phenomenon already at the age of nine girl such as her only daughter and my eldest – show "alarming levels of anxiety" about their appearance. She could write about it, and it did not sound to be smug or hypocritical. But she had no time.
And I have the time. Since my show closed, I have plenty of time to talk about what it's like to see new wrinkles are attacking you from all sides, and try to get a decent job as an actress. Or have any work as an actress.
Recently I was informed that I was not fit for the movie, because my appearance is "not in demand". Me all the more closely a young talent such as Alicia Vikander. You may ask yourself the question – but wait, because she's 27 and she's beautiful-a movie star you 44 and you play the role of mom in the TV series; you have nothing to share, you and her are in different "weight" categories.
But it pushes me. She is the center of attention, and I'm on the sidelines. My train left, and I continued to run after him and look like an idiot, like one of those latecomers, whose bag was pinched between the doors. All look at her like you want to say, "Yes, you let go of the bag, you stubborn old hag! Don't see — you don't belong".
I was very worried about the thought of death. I sorted out the options, what will kill me. Cancer, heart attack, multiple sclerosis or Parkinson's disease, as my mom and grandfather?
Photo: Wiki Commons
Once, when I was putting daughter to bed and had already decided that she was asleep, Frankie suddenly for no reason said "I am scared you have so many wrinkles, that means you're going to die?".
Hmm, now there's two of us, afraid of my death.
Since we all sooner or later all wrinkled and die, maybe we should try to come to terms with this fact. It looks like a gimmick, which is taught in driving school: if your car goes into a skid, turn the wheels straight in the direction of the skid. It's counterintuitive, but don't try to beat the slide.
Botox or not, I guess we shouldn't be too upset, because in the end we will all look shitty. Each of us, to the very last in the queue. Even Alicia Vikander (I'm sorry, Alicia). And the next promising young talent that will replace it, and so on, until the end of time.
A couple of years ago the teachers at school Frankie asked if any of the parents to talk about their profession. By coincidence my sister was flown to a medical conference in Los Angeles. I took her to school and she asked me why I don't want to speak. A fair question but I've spent my adult life on stage, entertaining the audience, and something in me wanted to do it in front of a crowd of first graders.
It was so nice to see how Frankie introduced my sister. She stood in front of the kids and explained that part of her job is to treat people in the hospital, and to train students who will later become doctors...
Sensational message from Julia Roberts: it's time to lose the mask
Empress Alexandra: On marriage and family life. Records, 1899
Sometimes her students do not very clearly understand what specialty suits them the most. Instead, they obey the will of their parents or choose what's popular television series. My sister sees to it that they are not seduced by the screaming headlines, prestige or other superficial reasons, and focus on what really matters.
I was standing in the back row, side by side with teachers of first graders, proud of his sister, who uttered a terrific speech — in their comfortable and light shoes without heels".
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Source: smart-cookie.ru/beauty/amanda-pit-botoks-i-fillery-dlya-menya-neobratimyj-shag/
"I have two young daughters, and they grow in the heart of American culture obsessed with beauty and youth. They used to watch as I put hours of hair and makeup, and I think this is a normal, integral part of my "work".
They know what the red carpet, and saw me with the stylist, try on dresses, jewelry and shoes to choose the best outfit — again and again, ad nauseam. Gradually they come to understand that in a profession that I chose, employment on the outside.
Their aunt, my sister went completely the opposite way. She is a doctor and, in addition, teaches medicine at the University. When, at the age of 33 her — too early — there gray hair, she was cool about it and even took it as a blessing, without them she looked so young that no one believed that she was a doctor.
Probably, if I were a Deputy Dean or a Professor of medicine at a major Metropolitan hospital, I would have considered the appearance of gray hair an advantage or, at least, God knows what event.
But I'm an actress.
Painfully obvious fact, but I'm still ashamed to admit: I care about how I look. How else can I explain that spending money on personal fitness trainer and a stylist? I bleached teeth, dyed hair, laser facial peels, and have tried numerous anti-aging creams.
More than once I asked the operator on the set to soften the light my "crow's feet" and nasolabial folds when I smile. None of this suggests that I'm getting old with dignity. And to add to all this the Botox fillers means for me to cross the Rubicon to make an irreversible step. Yes, I want to look younger (and better), believe me. The only thing that keeps me from these procedures is fear.
I'm afraid that one visit to the cosmetician-the dermatologist will be enough I'm hooked on the improved appearance as a drug. Coming for tiny, clearly specified a face-lift and come – a face like a fish of the family Blowfish. Or face, as if constantly pressed against a pane of glass. Or like I'm standing on the runway and me blowing a powerful wind from Boeing, rising into the air.
What's the point of doing something if it is noticeable? I need a means by which I look younger, not the means by which people can see that I "did something with the face."
I was not pleased with my sagging Breasts... But I'm afraid that, having a breast lift, will get some type of complication of septic shock... One day my daughter will learn the real cause of my death – I died because you voluntarily went to the hospital on absolutely not having required surgery – and he did it just to look a little more appealing for three people who really will pay attention to this change (my husband, my agent and attentive man who sends me postcards from prison).
My sister, meanwhile, do not follow celebrities or fashion – not out of protest, but simply because she is not particularly interesting. She finds shopping boring, never painted and do not wear high heel shoes. She has about four pairs of shoes, and they all vaguely resemble orthopedic.
She could give a speech about how plastic surgery ineptly translates precious medical resources; how the obsession with beauty and perfection that engulfs our civilization is exacerbated by the fact that we live in the Internet era of narcissism; and how this phenomenon already at the age of nine girl such as her only daughter and my eldest – show "alarming levels of anxiety" about their appearance. She could write about it, and it did not sound to be smug or hypocritical. But she had no time.
And I have the time. Since my show closed, I have plenty of time to talk about what it's like to see new wrinkles are attacking you from all sides, and try to get a decent job as an actress. Or have any work as an actress.
Recently I was informed that I was not fit for the movie, because my appearance is "not in demand". Me all the more closely a young talent such as Alicia Vikander. You may ask yourself the question – but wait, because she's 27 and she's beautiful-a movie star you 44 and you play the role of mom in the TV series; you have nothing to share, you and her are in different "weight" categories.
But it pushes me. She is the center of attention, and I'm on the sidelines. My train left, and I continued to run after him and look like an idiot, like one of those latecomers, whose bag was pinched between the doors. All look at her like you want to say, "Yes, you let go of the bag, you stubborn old hag! Don't see — you don't belong".
I was very worried about the thought of death. I sorted out the options, what will kill me. Cancer, heart attack, multiple sclerosis or Parkinson's disease, as my mom and grandfather?
Photo: Wiki Commons
Once, when I was putting daughter to bed and had already decided that she was asleep, Frankie suddenly for no reason said "I am scared you have so many wrinkles, that means you're going to die?".
Hmm, now there's two of us, afraid of my death.
Since we all sooner or later all wrinkled and die, maybe we should try to come to terms with this fact. It looks like a gimmick, which is taught in driving school: if your car goes into a skid, turn the wheels straight in the direction of the skid. It's counterintuitive, but don't try to beat the slide.
Botox or not, I guess we shouldn't be too upset, because in the end we will all look shitty. Each of us, to the very last in the queue. Even Alicia Vikander (I'm sorry, Alicia). And the next promising young talent that will replace it, and so on, until the end of time.
A couple of years ago the teachers at school Frankie asked if any of the parents to talk about their profession. By coincidence my sister was flown to a medical conference in Los Angeles. I took her to school and she asked me why I don't want to speak. A fair question but I've spent my adult life on stage, entertaining the audience, and something in me wanted to do it in front of a crowd of first graders.
It was so nice to see how Frankie introduced my sister. She stood in front of the kids and explained that part of her job is to treat people in the hospital, and to train students who will later become doctors...
Sensational message from Julia Roberts: it's time to lose the mask
Empress Alexandra: On marriage and family life. Records, 1899
Sometimes her students do not very clearly understand what specialty suits them the most. Instead, they obey the will of their parents or choose what's popular television series. My sister sees to it that they are not seduced by the screaming headlines, prestige or other superficial reasons, and focus on what really matters.
I was standing in the back row, side by side with teachers of first graders, proud of his sister, who uttered a terrific speech — in their comfortable and light shoes without heels".
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Source: smart-cookie.ru/beauty/amanda-pit-botoks-i-fillery-dlya-menya-neobratimyj-shag/
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