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Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Plastic Janes

By Arlene Corwin

I’m tempted -
(but not yet corrupted)
By Jane Fonda
Fondling camera, flirty:
“Look at me, I’m seventy,
I use creation such and such”
And aren’t I the cat’s pajamas
Just ‘too much,'
‘All that jazz’
(my daddy’s 20’s top clichés)
Skin so tight, so smooth and fine
And then, what do I find?
She’s joined the club,
Sabotaged my admiration,
Turned esteem into disdain,
Become a plastic Jane;
And I go back to being plain
old wrinkling me,
Which I admit takes courage
In these sickly days of being courted
By an industry [darkly] devoted
To the most unlikely medley
Of de-wrinkling reality:
Certain, inescapable, inevitable, preordained,
Unavoidable, to be expected end, big E.


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Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

Comments

Crinkle, Crinkle little scar
How I wonder what you are?
Up above my lips you rise
Crows feet dancing by my eyes
Well I think they add some twinkles,
So I'm gonna love my wrinkles!

Brave girl, Joanne!

Good for you, Joannie. Arlene's poem echos delusion and acceptane. I think of Grace Paley's line "my well mapped face." Without lines the map is probably a desert, with lines it's a lived in place. Jane is a movie actress and has earned her dough in that most unreal of professions. We who live in the real world have the privilede of displaying our "well mapped faces."

I can't really say I love my wrinkles. Spiritually speaking, the acceptance of them is a powerful way to get rid of vanity - always a good thing. But aesthetically speaking, it's not my favorite way of thinking of myself.
I do understand all the Plastic Janes out there. I'll just never be one.

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