Just a pitstop
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- July
- 22
I warned you last week that I’d jump between serious topics and fluffy stuff.
Well it’s time for a foray into the fluff.
Over the weekend, as I was flipping through one of this month’s fashion magazines (was it Allure or Vogue? I’ll let you know tomorrow) I came upon a topic I never knew middle-aged women worried about: flabby armpits!
As I read about case after case of embarrassed women complaining to doctors about their underarm saggage, I suddenly started wondering myself. Does everybody over 40 have this problem? How come I never realized this before?
You already know what I did next. Yes, I ran to the bathroom mirror, lifted up my arms and searched for the stuff they were talking about. Didn’t look that bad, I’ve got to say. So I squashed my arms back down, slid the elbows back a bit and then I saw it. Ugh! I, too, had the dreaded underarm dangles.
Don’t worry. I’m not wasting any more time on this. Of course I’m not seeing a plastic surgeon or investing in special supportive lingerie. I just think it shows that too much navel-gazing can be horrible for your mental health. Do we really need one more thing to add to the proof-I’m-not-young-anymore list?
Is this armpit thing crazy or what?




Baby boomer Linda Lombroso was born in Queens and grew up in Port Washington. She began her journalism career at New York Magazine and Rolling Stone, but left to pursue a master's degree in elementary education. Shortly afterward, she returned to magazines as an editor at US magazine, but again left the field, this time for the birth of her first child. Linda and her family moved from Manhattan to New Rochelle in 1988. After spending 10 years as a stay-at-home mother, she joined The Journal News as a police reporter in 1997. She's been a Life & Style writer since 2000. This is the only year her three children are teenagers at the same time, which means she undergoes a daily critique of hair, makeup and wardrobe. Her parents still live in Port Washington Ń and they like everything she wears.






Linda, you have nothing to worry about.
I on the other hand, am already there. My mom had that under arm thing you are talking about and just like that, practically overnight (not really) I inherited the arm thing. I can’t stop seeing her and seeing me seeing her.
UGH! Life, it happens!