Someone I know is planning to have liposuction soon. Not so notable, really. Except for the fact that she is nearing 70 years of age.

She is a beautiful woman who doesn’t look her age. But her doctor told her she could not diet or exercise off the few pounds she doesn’t like. That make her feel she doesn’t look nice in her clothes.

I don’t look my age, either. But last week I noticed the first signs of wrinkles on my neck. Not noticeable to others. But those few tiny folds were very evident to ME. So was the new line under my eyes. The one I noticed a few months ago.

Back in our mother’s generation, women dressed to the nines all the time. Coiffed, girdled and stockinged, belted, nipped and buttoned up, they always looked nice. But I don’t think they fretted about appearance like we do.

Back then, they didn’t have options like lipo, facelifts, Botox, Restylane.

I’m not sure, though, that this is progress. Just like every city is generic (same big and small box stores), women are becoming generic, as well. The same nose. The same smooth forehad. Perfect shape. Augmented breasts.

A world in which a woman nearly 70 feels like she needs lipo to feel better about herself, or one in which tiny neck wrinkles are worrisome, is a pretty damn superficial world.