“In high school I looked like a cross between Tootsie and Jon Bon Jovi. I was Harold Bishop with a perm. When I appeared on the first episode of Mamamia on Sky News I looked like a giant tangerine wearing glasses and a wig. Think of me as Paula Joye’s badly dressed sister. My skin is so pale I’m like the missing cast member from Twilight. I used to think I looked like Kate Winslet. Now I look like I ate Kate Winslet.”
In the past week, these are just some of the statements I’ve made – several times in fact – about my looks. Funny? They were meant to be. But in reality, when I look at them, they’re not funny. They’re actually a bit sad.
So this week when I read a column on News Taco about women bonding by complaining about their looks, well it struck a nerve.
In a post entitled “Why do women have to be so afraid of getting old?”, author Elaine Dove writes: