my Diane Keaton moment
It happened to me . . . at the age of 57 . . . my Diane Keaton moment. The good thing is I was only in front of a full-length mirror in Nordstrom and not in front of the Oprah audience and the billions of viewers watching at home on their TVs. I can still see it: actress Diane Keaton comes out to share a chair next to Oprah (many years ago, but that memorable!) and she’s in a black turtleneck, a full skirt and wide belt, and of course, her gloves. She’s looking fab except for one thing. The turtleneck is clutching her neck in a most unflattering way. Any time she moves, the loose skin above the super sleek, super tight fabric of the turtleneck crinkles and wrinkles like crazy! Her neck has the texture of a piece of paper that’s been wadded up tight, thrown away in the trash and then pulled out and tried to make smooth. No, actually, much worse than that. I cringe. I imagine her people backstage, watching on the monitors saying, “Oh my gosh! How did we let that happen?!!!??” It made her look 10 years older than she was.