I have vivid memories of hanging out with my grandma as a little girl. We’d be watching her "stories” and at some point during the commercial break she’d turn and ask me to grab a tweezer to deal with a stray hair on her chin.
“I don’t see anything, grandma….”
“I feel it. It’s there….”
Ultimately, I’d get close enough that I, too, could see it and we’d deal with the problem. Until a few days later when there’d be another hair. And we'd do the whole exercise all over again.
Everyone thought we were crazy. My mother would think we were sharing a common delusion and there was no hair to speak of. But there was. I swear.
And suddenly, one day not too long ago, I became my grandmother.
Out of nowhere, there were hairs on my chinny-chin-chin and I am having NOTHING of it.
I’d read years ago that as we get older, many women have a genetic disposition to grow mustache and chin hairs. The reason is pretty basic –- as women age, their estrogen levels decreases and testosterone gets to grow by leaps and bounds and cause us to grow more hair where men have them, on our faces (and to grow less on our heads.)
But I’m 30-ish. Should this be happening to me now? NOT SO MUCH, I say. Still, it is.
And much like my grandma, who just KNEW those hairs were there, I swear I can feel them in the depths of my soul. They plague me daily as I grimace in the vanity mirror, no matter how vigilant I am in my own daily during-my-soaps chin tweezing. But, also, much like grandma, people kind of think I’m imagining it. But she wasn’t, and I’m not. And, again, thank the lord I’m blonde.
The saddest irony is that even while hair is growing where it shouldn’t, it’s breaking and thinning in areas that I really wish it was more prevalent.
Chances are you won’t see the hair on most women in your life who complain to you either, but they know it’s there. And they have magnifying mirror that proves they are not crazy either.
In an unlucky confluence of events, just as our eyes start to go and we need a magnifier to apply makeup, we start getting more facial hair. So stand at arm's length in front of a regular mirror. If you can't see the hair on your face, you don't need to do anything about it. (Oh my God, I hope I'm right that you can't see the hair on my face from arm's length, but I get rid of it anyhow in case I want to encourage someone to come in for a close-up. That seems reasonable, doesn't it?)
Sometimes I attempt covering my extra hairs. In case you haven’t yet noticed, peach fuzz can grab powder and foundation. I’ve learned to mask that by using foundation almost as I’d use a moisturizer: Rub it in and let it set (or dry). Then buff it off with a cloth or a clean, slightly damp sponge. If you also wear powder (or a powder foundation), after application, lightly mist your face with water to settle the powder. You can just let that be, or pat it dry.
But mostly I just do what my grandma did (she was an amazing, wise beyond anything I knew at the time) woman. Just pluck it. Pluck it good. And pray. Because, my friends, I fear from here? It’s only downhill.
Are you growing weird hairs? Or do you have other random aging things happening to your face and body?