Victoria’s Principles

A week or so ago, Victoria Principal was a guest on Oprah, when the theme was age-defying makeovers. Now, I’m not a fan of either VP or O, but I like anything that delivers a POV on makeovers. Cinderella, ball gowns, glass slippers. All that gobbledygook.
Victoria Principal, in a very feminine dress, sporting impeccably styled dark auburn hair and an expertly made-up face as perfectly pressed as a dress shirt, professed to love being in her 50s.
“The face you have at 50 is the face you’ve earned,” she said. Her mouth smiled, but the rest of her face was as frozen as her acting career.
Oh yes, Ms. Principal. You certainly did earn the money, thanks to “Dallas”, to afford the face you have. Actually, you probably didn’t even have to pay for it; after all, your husband, Harry Glassman, is a plastic surgeon, is he not? I find it revolting that you pretend to have achieved that face completely on your own, when a simple viewing of your supremely starched forehead tells me otherwise. If left to its own devices, no doubt your face would certainly reveal every life experience you earned.
I defy her to forego her next Botox injection or face lift and put her money where her collagen’d mouth is. Fraud.