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A Tribute To Lebanese Mothers: Women Who Refuse To Let Themselves Go
This is a tribute to the child-bearing women who make your average 20-year-old look like a graying old moth. I’m talking about the brave women who grace the cover of Mondanité magazine month after month. I’m talking about the women who get mani-pedis like it’s a full-time job. I’m talking about the women who haven’t eaten gluten since 2003. Heroes.
Ladies, this post is dedicated to you: the Lebanese mothers who refuse to give up on looking good.
From their perfectly tweezed eyebrows with nary a stray hair, to their gorgeously sculpted asses from hours of dedication put in at the gym. From the valley of their flawless skin that is the product of hours and hours of Saddam-grade chemical peels and enough Botox to murder a baby elephant, to the hills that are their great tits.
This is to you, Lebanese mothers, women who refuse to let things go south.
You might say there is a general global trend for people to become lax with their appearance once they get married. Male potbellies seem to grow overnight; women let go of their previously sacred hair-removal schedules.
Asses widen and hair thins out.
On the other end of the spectrum, we have a special breed of Lebanese women who manage to get hotter with each passing year. These are the Lebanese moms who don’t give up.
A prime example of this relentless fight for youth and beauty is demonstrated in clothing choices. While many mothers around the world are known for wearing “mom jeans” – usually unflattering and unfashionable high-waisted jeans with an elastic band (to strap in some of that newly acquired stomach pouch) – you’ll find a Lebanese mom in a tight pair of skinny jeans, stomach flat as ever, and legs.for.days.
It can’t be easy for these women to keep it all in the right place and pointing upwards. Think of the hours spent at the gym. Think of all the salads they must eat. Oh Lord, the salads.
“So Many Salads, So Few Fries,” is the title of their collective, unofficial autobiography.
After years and years of upkeep throughout their twenties and thirties, you’d think these women would let loose: go to town on a large pizza every night, embrace wearing bulky outdated Reeboks, and stop shaving above the knee (as I did when I turned 19). But no, our hot Lebanese mothers refuse to grow old, or grow at all really.
Now sure, their sometimes obsessive preoccupation with appearances may come at a price: a literal price tag for all the treatments, nips, and tucks that are needed; and then the metaphorical price of watching your child call the housekeeper ‘mom’ because you’re too busy chilling at the hairdresser six days a week. But it all becomes worthwhile when you get mistaken for your child’s older sister.
This post is dedicated to you, Lebanese MILFS. May we all muster up the strength it takes to stop chugging margaritas by the gallon and chips with salsa by the pound, in the hopes that one day we too can manage to squeeze into your size zero bandage dresses.
Bless.