ANOTHER SUMMER, ANOTHER shopping trip staring at strappy dresses, trying to convince myself: “Yes, I can wear that”, knowing full well that the dress would show off my arms, the arms I had grown to dislike more and more as the years went on.
I think it was around about my mid 40’s that I noticed my arms had changed from the toned, supple arms of my youth to a rather wrinkled crepey, bat wing version.
I have always prided myself on everything in moderation: I exercised regularly, watched my weight but still enjoyed the pleasures of an active social life, which obviously involved eating and drinking.
