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She dressed carefully, making sure that everything she wanted covered was hidden. Her makeup ritual was set in stone; she knew exactly what to use, and how to use it, in order to create her trademark flawlessly natural look.
Ditto for her clothes. The seemed to reveal all; but in the privacy of her dressing room, she was a very different creature. She was not above taping her anatomy into the contours her skin no longer assumed on their own; one did what one had to do at her age. Surgery could only go so far; there was a limit on how many times one could go under the knife without it becoming painfully obvious. She'd seen far too many horrible before-and-after photos of her contemporaries splashed across the pages of the tabloids to risk that.
They'd uncover her secrets someday; but she hoped she wouldn't live to see it.
© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel seed beads, bead-woven.