I’m traveling tomorrow to the Blackhawk Museum to give a presentation about women of the West and specifically about pioneer women physicians. I’m excited to share what I learned researching and writing the book The Doctor Was A Woman. I couldn’t help but notice a theme that ran through the majority of the stories I found. As far back as 1890 in the Gold Country, women patients were seeking doctors’ recommendations on how to stop the aging process. Women of a certain age were hoping to find a crème or a lotion to remove the dark circles under their eyes and reduce wrinkles on their face and neck.
The invention of the “bust improver” in 1887, with pads of assorted sizes that could be inserted into a slit in the fabric, solved any enhancement issues. The corset helped women who wanted a waist-measurement that did not exceed the number of years of her age was a problem solver as well. How to get rid of dark circles and wrinkles was still a mystery.
Some doctors suggested women slather their face with donkey milk or duck fat to eliminate crow’s feet and turkey’s neck. Women complained the prescription did nothing to eradicate the wrinkles. It did, however, attract cats. A trade off most ladies disliked immensely.
Advertisements for Pears Soap featuring the beautiful actress Lilly Langtry, promised women who used the product a “nice youthful complexion, young looking hands, a reduction in wrinkles, and happiness galore.” In the print ads, Lilly boasted about the wonderful results she had washing with Pears Soap daily and encouraged women with stubborn wrinkles to wash their face two and three times a day. Langtry was a successful, wealthy, twenty-eight-year-old and many women were annoyed that someone who obviously didn’t struggle with wrinkles at her age would be giving advice on how to halt the process or gain happiness.
I feel the same way every time I see a commercial about wrinkle cream starring a teenager. Or hear a twenty something model lecture me about avoiding meat and eating only lawn clippings and Greek yogurt. What makes advertisers think the opinion of these supermodels has more weight or importance simply because they happened to hit the pick six in the genetic lottery?
It seems our entire existence is spent yearning for what we don’t have, and we’re convinced that whatever it is we’re missing is the one thing keeping us from perfect bliss. Which the makeup manufacturers would have you believe resembles a Revlon commercial where everyone is in a thong bikini cavorting on the beach while applying rejuvenating cream on their nonexistent drying pores. I don’t think it’s possible to have baby dolphin smooth skin unless you’re a dolphin. And I personally look like a sumo wrestler in a thong.
And as for happiness… What makes people happy anyway? I’ve concluded that most people are only really happy not when something good happens to them, but when something bad doesn’t happen to them.
Happiness is not settling for less, but just not being miserable with what is. I have always lived by the creed that it’s not the approval or accolades or possessions that make you smile, but simply making the left turn even though you were the third car in the intersection.
Now, where’s that duck fat?
