Mirror, mirror, on the wall, were you lying after all?

Who among us has not heard the story of snow white? Each day her wicked stepmother would look into the magic mirror and ask, “Mirror, mirror on the wall who’s the fairest of them all?” and the mirror, which could not lie, would tell her she was fairest, until the day Snow White, aged 7, became the fairest maiden in all the land. And as the story goes, the mirror rejects the stepmother in favor of snow white, thus sending the stepmother into a murderous rage that would ultimately lead to the poisoning of the innocent snow white till awakened by the handsome prince, blah, blah bla……

 

Aside from the obvious fact that this story and screen play for the Disney movie most certainly had to be written by a man….hello, male voice in the mirror….bitchy female stepmother……innocent little virgin living with 7 men all fawning over her…notice how all the other men couldn’t measure up to the task needed? Don’t forget the tall dark handsome prince who saves the day - no CPR or heroic measures by the local medical center needed.

How many females, both young and old have looked into a mirror, wishing that it would magically speak and tell them they are the most beautiful? Women are bombarded with images of how we should look and act and very few of us out there have a snowballs chance in hell of achieving it. When I was younger, I too longed for that magic mirror, but in my own mind, if I dared ask that question, I would hear the answer “not you!” It is the fate of adolescents to feel insignificant and inept. Blame hormones, social media, jealousy, but most of all, I blame my not enchanted, damned mirror!

As time goes by, you catch on and realize the whole magic mirror …is what it is…a fairytale. Until something happens and you start to doubt the wisdom you thought you developed with age and wonder if there really is a Santa Claus, guardian angels, or more believable still….. are there really magic mirrors out there? If you stop and look around you, one almost has to believe in their existence.  After all, why would some people walk out in public looking the way they do unless their mirrors are telling them they look good? Have you seen the e-mails of the people who walk in Walmart?....the kids who have more piercings than your grandmother’s pincushion; and the equivalent of their own weight in metal hanging from each puncture? They had to at one time or other seen their own reflection and gotten validation from some mystical voice.

Case in point, a customer we referred to as the “slab lady” who came to the wolf watch one day. We could only assume that she had lost an enormous amount of weight, perhaps as a result of by-pass surgery, and could finally wear the current fashion of low rider jeans, wide studded belt and pink cashmere sweater cropped at the waist. She was really quite attractive, until your eyes settled on something hanging over the belt like a fanny pack. My brain worked feverishly trying to make out what the flesh colored London broil sized slab was, that obstructed the continuation of silver studs adorning the belt encircling her hips. Then it hit me….it was the excess tummy skin that lost its gelatinous stuffing as a result of by-pass surgery and fell flush against her jeans by the gravitational pull of the earth ending 6 inches below the top of her belt! That’s when I knew with certainly that magic mirrors do indeed exist and I just did not possess one. I wanted to rush out and say,  Honey, tuck it in under the belt!” … but alas, that would have probably warranted the next size up in jeans, and I can empathize with the emotional high one gets when digits marked in the tag of your clothes decrease numerically.

And besides, who are we to judge? I must admit I was a little envious of her confidence and satisfaction with her body to walk out of the house that way. I wanted to ask what kind of mirror she had and where I could get one just like it. But, in that moment, I realize that we all have the ability to hear the mirror speaking back to us. The voice in the mirror is none other than our own. That’s the magic….and now, since that day when I look in the mirror and ask, “who’s the fairest of them all, the response isn’t the “not you” that I used to hear in my youth. O.K. let’s be realistic…it’s also not saying “You are the fairest of them all either!” However, if I dress nice, put my make-up on, fix the hair and put the question to the mirror, I almost definitely can hear him answer “I’ve seen worse”!