There’s something mesmerising about a magnifying mirror, especially when it’s not something you have at home. At Buxted Park Hotel we had one in our bathroom. A large shiny circle of glass that seemed to look more deeply into your face, shedding layers of skin like a mask.
Misses E and M saw it as a novelty, a funny thing to bend and tug, and pull funny faces in.
Mr B saw it as useful I suppose. I can’t say I noticed him peering into it any longer than he usually would.
But me…oh my Bob?
I never realised before how unpleasant my skin might look close up. Seriously, it was like looking at a dot to dot in some areas. I bet if I’d had a fine black pen I could have drawn a map of the British Isles by joining the open pores on my nose. Yack.
I have a feeling Jonathan Swift must have used these blumming things regularly. Either that or he wore magnifying glasses because his less than flattering description of the skin of the women in Gulliver’s Brobdingnag came to mind as I peered at my ‘coarse and uneven, so variously coloured’ cheeks, ‘with a with a mole here and there as broad as a trencher’. (Misogynist git).
And yet this grotesque view of myself pulled me to it like a yabbie to a duckbilled platypus. ( I looked that up.) I was drawn to the previously unseen blemishes, the tiny blackheads, the lumps and bumps that if I turned the mirror around became magically smooth and perfect – instant airbrushing.
I bet you’re thinking I’m a spotty, grubby, greasy old oik now aren’t you? But I’m truly, honestly not. I’ve always thought my skin was kind of ok. I missed out on the teenage spots, (I got the teenage ‘puppy fat’ thing instead so I think that’s fair.) And although I do have the occasional hormonal outbreak, generally my skin is pretty good, in fact it’s one of the things people compliment me on. So to see my skin in extreme focus, ‘warts and all’ as it were, came as a bit of a shock and led to me spending a while longer in the bathroom where I piggled and squeezed like a mad woman. I know, nice image.
So what am I trying to say here?
Well, apart from revealing a penchant for squeezing my dermal eruptions, (bad Jo), my point is this.
Shaving mirrors.
Why?
I mean, I know the obvious answer is ‘FOR SHAVING,’ but come on boys, surely you can manage to run a metal blade over your face and dodge the obvious pokey outy bits without having your noggin magnified by a million can’t you? Nose, chin, lips, eyebrows, they’re all actually fairly obvious without seeing them close up and super-sized. Or is that just one of the many talents we ladies have that some of you seem to struggle with??
Then again, it could explain so many things. Oliver Hardy’s moustache, Jack Nicholson’s eyebrows, Joaquin Phoenix’ beard…
Let’s face it, there is no way the lovely Mr Phoenix has a shaving mirror. It would be like peering into the equatorial rainforest. I bet there are spiny lizards and pygmy hippos and everything in there, shiver.
So now I just talked myself out of my own argument, because I have to admit the man above NEEDS a shaving mirror. In fact, if anyone has his address I will send him one.
Bugger.
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February 22nd, 2009 at 3:10 pm
THAT’s Joaquin Phoenix?
Daaaaaaaammmmmmn.
February 22nd, 2009 at 3:34 pm
Tweezing is every so much more fun with a magnifying mirror … they are horrible flaw exaggerators but trust me .. tweezing, zit picking .. essential
February 22nd, 2009 at 4:46 pm
You shave your legs with your eyes closed and then I’ll listen to you.
Not that I do much shaving myself mind you.
February 22nd, 2009 at 5:16 pm
My mom has one of those things, and it kills me, and transfixes me…
I hate it!
Joaquin is still hot – now he’s a freak, too! Woohoo!
February 22nd, 2009 at 6:01 pm
I don’t have a magnifying mirror yet, but I have to tweeze my chin and my eyebrows with my reading glasses on and that is just as bad, because it too magnifies every blemish. You must keep in mind though, that nobody else gets this point of view of you and that it’s highly exaggerated.
As to that Phoenix guy, I wouldn’t date him if you paid me to. It seems he plucks his mustache hair, because he has a distinct bald spot under his nose. It’s a nervous habit some people have. He sure is no beauty.
February 22nd, 2009 at 9:39 pm
When hubby and I split I inexplicably ended up with the shaving mirror and it tortures me every day when I get out of the shower. It doesn’t help that I started growing a beard since having the kids – so will possibly be using to shave my face with at some point. Oh God. That is such a depressing thought!
February 22nd, 2009 at 10:17 pm
I had the exact same experience when we went to a nice hotel earlier this month – bleh!
February 23rd, 2009 at 12:12 am
LOL I’m in total agreement on both fronts. Shaving mirrors are a tad overkill….and Mr. Phoenix needs one.
February 23rd, 2009 at 2:53 am
Ewwww.Joaquin, bleh.
February 23rd, 2009 at 3:18 am
Darling Jo, when it comes to magnifying mirrors the golder rule is STAY AWAY, unless you are under the age of 10. Never go near them. Repeat after me …
February 23rd, 2009 at 4:22 am
They are very useful when one is shaving around one’s little fireman – rather flattering, too.
February 23rd, 2009 at 2:51 pm
I have one, I never look in it – which probably explains a lot of things.
Can you imagine a full length one?!!!
February 24th, 2009 at 1:28 pm
Potty I know. Doesn’t it make you feel sad? Sighhhhhh.
Daryl, I have to say that certainly made it easier. ;D
Dan, I might just have a go…then again. And does that mean you have a beard again? Yours is much nicer than Joaquin’s. I promise.
Sybil, that’s exactly it, it’s one of those love/hate things. And Joaquin is lovely but I couldn’t kiss all that hair. Shiver.
Finely Tuned Woman thank Bob for small mercies and all that. And I think the weird moustache patch is actually a scar. It looks really attractive on his normal face, but very odd on the moustache.
Nioola, noooooooo. Snort. I bet it’s only a little beard though. ;D
Kim isn’t it scary? And yet you can’t dtop looking can you.
Corey, they so are. And Joaquin needs someone to take care of him I think.
Lilacs it’s bad isn’t it? Poor man. Hope he’s ok.
Rosie, I repeated it 563 times so I think it’s gone in.
Napoleon, snort, but you can’t live your life through a magnifying mirror, snort.
Surprised Mum, a full length one would be terrifying. Seriously, I just don’t want to think about it. Shiver.
February 24th, 2009 at 3:47 pm
Ah now, if you had boys as well as (or instead of) girls, you would know that there is another use for a magnifying mirror. Maybe that is why men need them. But most of them are grown-up enough to pretend it’s for looking at their face, rather than for standing on the bathroom counter and seeing what certain body parts look like when magnified.