Back to the milking
Aunt Elsa tossed the copy ofVogueonto the coffee table shaking her head dismissively.
“It just isn’t right,” she observed.
“Excuse me, what’s not right?” I asked.
“Thesehighfalutinmagazines, with the sickly skinny models tell’n us how we should look. That one on the cover there, eyelashes up to her eyebrows and a mascara line almost to her ears. It ain’t natural, and God help ’em if they get caught in a rainstorm, or did any real work and got sweaty, their man wou’n’t even recognise them,” Elsa ranted.
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” I challenged.
“You think?” she continued. “Take them there Kardashians, and the like. It’s all false like those magazine eyelashes. And they think they have all the answers onhow to be a woman. It ain’t the make-up or the “love” advice. You are born to it or you ain’t. Take…
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