The thing about makeup is that the more you need it, the less it can do for you
I take a taxi up the mountain, dress in white cotton slacks I bought two years ago in Oia and a red silk shirt I bought nineteen years ago in Da Nang. I brush, even blow-dry my hair, and put on a little lip gloss, nothing else – the thing about makeup is that the more you need it, the less it can do for you – and hang antique rose-cut diamond drops from earlobes so long they would have done Lyndon Johnson proud. The earrings were a gift from Rolfe, the odd fellow who turned out to be the great love of my life. Having been a fool for love more than once, how lucky am I that Rolfe didn’t enter the picture to appreciate that Sam Keen was right: we come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly. What I know about Rolfe is what I love.
from Take Big Bites: Adventures Around the World and Across the Table
by Linda Ellerbee, musing about life and love on her 60th birthday
image – jo-h