I’ll admit, I’m not particularly proud of how I’m dealing with the new older me. I always pictured myself aging gracefully like Anjelica Huston’s Clara in Lonesome Dove or Katharine Hepburn’s Ethel Thayer in On Golden Pond. Yet here I sit, staring longingly at the plush, glowing faces of my supposed contemporaries in the Botox and Restylane ads and getting ready to speed dial the spa. Get me some of that!
But how is it that these ads found me all of a sudden? OK, scratch that, I’ve worked in advertising-related fields for 30 years. I know too well. Still, it’s disheartening when ads for anti-aging cosmetics pop up in the right column of my Facebook page immediately after I update my profile pic. I mean, can they (and by that, I mean we) track the number of wrinkles per pixel?