I think I'm going to enjoy my looks in my thirties. For a while I held onto this kind of coltish teenagery image. (I still have a lack of style and poise that is sometimes attributed to youth.) But I think I am transitioning to a more solid, serviceable image. Less tentative, more reliable. It's the sitting on the front steps in the autumn sunlight, wearing plaid flannel and jeans, holding a gardening spade, look.
The best beauty tip I ever got was from my boyfriend, who told me to stop washing my face with Crisco and just use water. After that, my skin cleared right up. Kidding. I was using some elaborate regimen of skin-care products. But it might as well have been Crisco. My skin has been very happy ever since I stopped messing with it.
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