top of page
Search

The Chin Hair Saga: Now in Grey




 

A while back, I wrote a blog titled "My Green Thumb Has Turned Grey." (Feel free to give it a read—it’s a good laugh: https://www.earringsoff.com/post/my-green-thumb-has-turned-grey.)

 In it, I laid my aging truths bare, including the delightful new beauty routine of plucking stray chin hairs. Oh, how proud I was of my honesty! I thought I had faced the beast and come out victorious, tweezers in hand. 

 

But as it turns out, life had more plans for me. And by "life," I mean a single, defiant grey chin hair. 

 

Sadly, the saga has gotten worse. 

 

One ordinary day, which started off like any other day: The sun was shining, and I was basking in the fact (like the old folks say) that I was “In the Land of The Living.”  As I was brushing my teeth, I noticed what I thought was a white speck on my chin. A stray toothpaste bubble? Nope. I rubbed it with my finger—still there. Towel swipe? Still there. That’s when my bifocal-enhanced eyes betrayed me with the cold, hard truth: it was a grey hair. Just chilling on my chin. Staring me down. Wth?!

 

Let me tell you something—there’s a world of difference between a rogue black chin hair and a grey one. A black hair might go unnoticed if the light’s kind and no one looks too closely. But a grey chin hair? Oh, it’s like the flashing neon "Open" sign outside a diner. Everyone sees it, and trust me, everyone will point it out. 

 

“Hey, you’ve got something on your face!” they’ll say. And then comes the awkward dance: you’ll swipe at it, they’ll lean in, and together you’ll realize it’s not something on your face—it’s something growing out of it.

 

Growing up, I had three older sisters who were fabulous role models. They expertly prepped me for puberty and all the joys of becoming a woman. But somehow, in all their wisdom, they forgot to warn me about this chin-hair betrayal. I mean, sure, they taught me about the essentials—training bras, maxi pads, the value of a good lipstick. But tweezers? Never came up. 

 

Well, sisters, consider this my PSA: If you’re a woman over 40, tweezers are not optional. They’re as vital as your house keys or your phone. Scratch that—they’re more important. You can survive getting locked out of your house. You cannot survive strolling into a meeting with a glistening grey hair waving hello from your chin. 

 

So now, every morning, I give my chin a quick once-over, my trusty tweezers ever at the ready. And if you see me out and about, just know that I’m carrying a spare in my purse. Because much like an American Express card, I never leave home without ‘em.


Lou

 

 

 

26 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Bình luận


bottom of page