Tag Archives: Beauty Treatments
plastic surgery options, skin products, skin creams, skin serums, hylaronic acid, Restylane, Perlane, Juvedem, Botox, Dysport, Radiesse, Sculptra, Fraxel laser, Thermage, Ultherapy, tummy tuck, fanny tuck, breast implants
Excerpts from Charlee’s Diary
March 25, 2014 – I just hate being 10 years old. My legs aren’t what they used to be. I lost my footing and fell, hurting my bum front leg. It was more embarrassing than anything because my toenail scratched the hair off the bridge of my nose. I am considering rhinoplasty, but the best plastic surgeon my mom knows is in Manhattan. I don’t think I could get there and back without anyone noticing, especially with my nose bandaged. And does rhinoplasty even repair lost hair on the nose? I wish I could quit staring at it in the mirror.
April 4, 2014 – I find this sign discriminatory on several levels.
April 17, 2014 – Those Farmer’s Insurance commercials are funny. The bear on the motorcycle … still chuckling.
April 24, 2014 – So, I was reading The Wall Street Journal today and saw an article about a cat café in New York. Apparently, cat lovers can go and eat, drink “Cat’achinos” (whatever) and adopt homeless cats at this cafe. I really feel for a homeless animal in New York (even a cat, I suppose). Still, I don’t think I want to go to Manhattan for a rhinoplasty anymore.
“Adventures” (an Elizabethan Dog Sonnet)
She spoils me is what some may often say.
PetSmart, Petco, Pet Club and sometimes Lowe’s …
She takes me on adventures everyday,
(and wants to take me flying with “Dog Bose”).
She bathes me weekly and brushes my shedding coat,
Puts cream on my paws and checks my face for stains,
Fastens the pretty pink collar around my throat,
In the ‘Benz we speed to Starbucks drive-thru lane.
An iced venti unsweet’nd green tea for her,
Grande water (and treat she brought) for me,
To the pet store next where cats are adopted and purr.
Lizards, parrots, ferrets and fish we see.
Adventures with my mom are always fun.
But my favorite with her is watching the rising sun.
“What Lovely Jowls You Have, My Dear!”
So, one of my recent adventures in desert dog walking involved Charlee seeing a dog and yanking me off balance into a cactus. The result: cactus needles embedded in my right hand and the right side of my face. Seven weeks later (after an infection requiring over 10,000 mg of antibiotics to clear and the makings of an ugly scar on my face), I visited a Scottsdale plastic surgeon to weigh my options regarding the impending scar.
Plastic surgeon’s report: the wound is still healing. Nothing can really be done at the moment. Keep doing what I am doing.
No problem, I thought.
In the next breath and with a look approaching disdain, the physician changed the subject. “You really should consider doing something about your jowls, especially at your age,” she said.
“My what?” I asked, perplexed.
With pursed lips and a generously Botox’d forehead, “Your jowls,” she repeated. “You are at the age when they can become problematic for women.”
Oh goodie. Not only have I been through a fairly traumatic seven weeks (and counting) with most likely a permanent scar on my face, but the plastic surgeon somehow felt compelled to introduce a completely new and unrelated issue unbeknownst to me and with such a lovely connotation … “jowls.” Truly, the word alone could create an anaphylactic response for some.
Fortunately, my ordeal with the cactus and ensuing infection must have primed me for this conversation, because I was ready for it. “Really? What do you typically suggest for jowls? Do I need a facelift?” I asked, knowing the question was ludicrous.
“Oh no! You are too young for a facelift,” the physician gave a startled laugh. “We typically recommend a procedure to stimulate collagen growth and tighten the skin.”
“Really? And what are the results of such a procedure? The jowls disappear permanently?”
“Oh no. Results are very subtle,” she explained. “And you don’t really have jowls, per se. I am simply saying that, at your age, you should be thinking about procedures to stave off those ugly things.” She paused a moment, assessing me, and added, “We could probably do your jowls and entire face and neck for about $2,500.” (The continued allusions to my age thrilled me as much as the inclusion of my “entire face and neck” in the context of a blue-light special.)
“I just want to understand,” I said, seeking clarity. “You mean ‘do’ the jowls that I don’t yet have for only $2,500, and you will throw in my entire face and neck?”
“That’s correct,” she nodded, seemingly quite satisfied with her sales prowess. “It would be more of a preventive procedure in your case.”
“Ahh. Well, I think not. My concern is the scar at the moment,” I explained more graciously than I felt. That marked the rather disappointing end of an appointment I had anticipated with such hope.
As I drove home, the plastic surgeon’s words echoed in my head. “Preventive procedures for jowls,“ I muttered aloud. “Women my age,” I snorted.
Did it require a healthy dose of fear and humility like a severe infection, the Grand Canyon of facial wounds, not to mention nearly seven weeks of living the life of a hermit – all to recognize the shallowness and the vanity of scheduling today’s appointment in the first place? Or, was I able to make this observation because jowls are not yet a part of my daily repertoire?
I sighed, knowing I could psychoanalyze this for the rest of the day, month and year (because that’s what I tend to do). Instead, I hurried home for a welcome by Charlee and her unproblematic jowls. (I can only hope mine will be as beautiful as hers some day.)
The Exorbitant Cost of Walking Your Dog in Scottsdale
It can cost a fortune to walk your dog in Scottsdale, especially if you are a woman. No, I am not referring to therapy sessions or ER visits to cope with the javelinas, coyotes, bobcats, snakes, Gila monsters and scorpions. I am referring to the actual cost of walking your dog in Scottsdale, i.e., the desert version of Beverly Hills.
Let’s start with your dog walking attire – a lululemon ensemble, of course, and it runs about $200 if you include the sports bra. Then, you need some MBT sports sandals in a variety of colors to complement your color scheme for the day. The most stylish ones run between $130-$200.
And, you cannot spend that much money on your clothes if you are flabby. You will need a personal trainer several hours each week … another $200.
Next, skincare is of utmost importance in the desert, especially when you are outside for 30-45 minutes several times each day. I use and recommend a variety of products. For sunscreen, I prefer the COOLA organic suncare collection. To moisturize the skin around my eyes, I love SkinMedica; for full face, I prefer Jan Marini. The “I-had-the-best-tan-of-anyone-in-the-world-during-my-teens-and-20s” sun damage repair is a work-in-progress with Obagi’s Nu-Derm System and Fraxel laser treatments at the helm. Estimated total cost for skincare: several thousands of dollars.
Of course, you must keep your hair conditioned in this desert oven. My preferred hair care lines are Oribe and Moroccan Oil these days, but I am a fickle consumer. Cost? Conservatively, $300 for my favorite mists, creams and oils from each line.
What about the mandatory manicure and pedicure? Those hands and heels must be hydrated, and nails adorned with shiny polish. Add $75-$150 if you visit a salon. (I prefer to do my own. The OPI nail polish line makes me happy, although Dior is my favorite. For hydrating the desert heels, nothing works better for me than Theraplex Emollient.)
I won’t even delve into the Botox, Dysport, Restylane and Perlane treatments (or other plastic surgery procedures). You can easily add thousands more to your dog walking expenditures, depending on the “work” done and which plastic surgeon or dermatologist does the “work.”
Bottom line: it’s cheaper to hire a dog walking service.
Spa Day: A Dog’s Perspective
In the “About” section of this LoveMyDogHateMyElbows blog, you may have read how Charlee loves spa day. It all begins with my simple question to her: “Does Charlee want a bath?” Her whole backend seems to wag as she walks into the bathroom for a soak in the tub. She sits patiently as the tub fills with water. Once the water is just the right temperature and depth, off comes her collar, and in his tub she goes.
Charlee seems to thoroughly enjoy the lavender-infused organic dog shampoo with natural skin and coat conditioners and thick, foamy suds. She tilts her head to one side as I massage the suds around her neck and on her spotted back. She lifts each paw, allowing me to work the suds between her pink and black toes where all sorts of small gravel, flowers, grass and other debris seem to accumulate. Once she is pristine and smelling heavenly, it is time to rinse away the thick suds and enjoy no less than 15 minutes of lying-in-Mommy’s-lap time, snuggled in a cozy towel.
Mmm. Can you just imagine … an organic bath with rich, lavender-scented suds, a 15-minute snuggle, a paw mini-pedi? From my perspective, it’s a dog’s “spa day” dream. (No doubt you have already deduced that “from my perspective” is the key phrase here.)
Today, we skip the blow dry (which is part of our fall/winter regimen) and sit outside to dry naturally in the sunshine. Charlee suns herself for about five minutes before something white and gooey on the pavement in front of our condo catches her eye. Still a bit damp, she decides to check it out.
My reality check for the day: Charlee really is a dog.
Not All Spots Are Blemishes
Did anyone else experience breakouts on school picture day? Since I was 16 years old, I have had a blemish for picture day (even for re-takes). Yesterday (Sunday) was no different. Yes, several years (okay, decades) later, knowing a photographer from church was scheduled to take my photograph, I was riddled with skin issues. Let’s add to this the fact that I needed to visit the Christian Dior counter at Nordstrom after Sunday morning worship service. Even my 5-inch heels, really quite breathtaking, could not upstage what seemed to be a 5-inch-in-diameter pimple on my left cheekbone.
“Have you been helped?” asked a beautiful woman with flawless skin who was representing Christian Dior.
“I have not,” I smiled, dropping my car keys strategically near my right foot so I could bend down, hoping my shoes would grab her attention. “I am here to pick up my pre-order.” I gave her my name, and she whisked away to collect my sack of goodies.
Upon her return and NOT noticing my shoes, of course, she asked way too nonchalantly, “Do you use our skincare line?”
“I do not,” I smiled in reply, my head tilted to the side with a look that translated, “You must have spotted the white elephant.”
“We have a product that clears the skin right up,” she said with a kindly look of pity.
Sigh. “Thank you, but I actually do see a dermatologist’s office regularly, where I buy wonderful skincare products. I even visit a plastic surgeon’s office for monthly chemical peels.” (I was experiencing shortness of breath by this time.) “If it helps at all, I know I look terrible today. I’m having my picture made this afternoon,” I explained matter-of-factly as though Mount Everest happened to everyone systematically on picture day. She frowned as much as the Botox would allow, clearly (no pun intended) not understanding the connection.
“Not at all, Madam. You have beautiful skin.” (This did not even qualify as a white lie. She needed to repent after that statement. In all fairness, she was the epitome of everything I love about Nordstrom … outstanding customer service, knowledgable, professional. I just had a zit large enough for a birth announcement.)
And oh goodie, why not, this had to be the day the computer system was running painfully slowly. (When does this ever happen at Nordstrom? On picture day, of course.) “Let’s move to this counter. The system is usually much faster over here,” she explained, moving us to the glitzy Hollywood counter with unforgiving lighting. Sigh again.
Yes, there is more to the story, but the humble pie is choking me. Needless to say, I was glad to get home to my photogenic Charlee, whose brown and black spots would not be considered imperfections even in the world of Christian Dior.