The limitations of mirrors

Let’s face it: most bathroom mirrors are boring, little square boxes mass produced. Oh, okay, some have stage mirror lights and size may vary.

This mirror was in the villa I stayed in during my visit to Collodi Tuscany and was not boring. I wouldn’t call it beautiful and the word kitsch might even pass my lips, but certainly, each morning as I huddled in the cold, I found it amusing.

One of the facets of aging is there’s a lot less time spent mirror gazing. As a preteen I used to spend hours in the bathroom, singing into my tooth brush as I gazed into the mirror and pretending I was on Ed Sullivan. It was one of those boring square boxes hiding medicine and make up.

The rest of the family stayed well out of hearing distance, not that caterwauling was ever mentioned. I just knew that’s what they thought when I emerged from the bathroom to always find them at opposite ends of the house.

My image in the mirror has gone from being my face to my mother’s face then to my grandmother’s face. And when I look now, it is to check that my roots don’t need touching up and spinach isn’t caught between my teeth. For a few minutes it removes the reason not to get a face lift (it’s not my problem, it’s the problem of those that have to look at me).

A mirror might be able to help me make sure my face as optimum as aging allows, my hair is in place but it can do nothing to help me sing. So maybe the next best thing is to try and make the mirrors of the world interesitng unto themselves.