Beauty And The Birth Of The Self
On how certain things never cease to matter.
There are few things I find more joyful than seeing an older woman dressed with taste, fully made up, walking on the street with an aura of joy and sovereignty. Whenever I see her, I want to sit at a café and listen to her—hopefully—wise, unapologetic, and slightly scandalous observations about our world.
That woman is a testament to one thing: beauty never ceases to matter.
It matters to little girls, and it matters to older women.
It matters to me, and actually, I think I look better than I ever did.
Do you know why?
