I'm A First-Time Beauty Editor and Here Is My Butt
Tell us what you think of this Debut Entry in our AJPT New Beauty Editor Sweepstakes!!! Featuring some tips that work (and some that don't) for a gorgeous butt - if you're into that.
First of all, hello gorgeous and thoughtful people!
Remember when I had the idea that instead of hiring a new Beauty Editor of my choice and foisting them upon you (as I usually do), I would make you all part of the hiring process?
Well, here we go with our very first installment! I have three entires in total right now and a couple more to come. I will show each candidate’s wondrous work to you one by one and love to hear all of your takes in the comments. (And if you still want to get in on this, write me at jane@anotherjanepratthing.com, slowpokes.) It’s not about the editors competing or “winning” because we will likely end up with more than one anyway (especially with beauty features written first-person, where what works is so specific to that person and their individual body - and where what each person considers beautiful is so thank-goodness varied). It’s about giving your feedback, as always, on the heartfelt and useful stories they give us, starting with this one from Amanda Jane, whose writing I love and who seems born for this newfangled job.
The point is also for each entrant to assess simultaneously whether they even like the Beauty Editor experience now that they know what it entails. (For example, Amanda and I spent a shit-ton of - fun, I think - time going back and forth on this one over a week or more to get it where we wanted it and through the process developed a policy of “no more butt pictures ever,” based on what she dealt with, which she can tell you more about in the comments.) It’s a two-way street! Or a roundabout, since all you kooks are involved. Actually, with this crew, let's better equate it to the High Five Interchange I have had to navigate when visiting my brother and his wonderful family in Dallas. Though the potential consequences of something going wrong with this Beauty Editor experiment are slightly less dire than with me, a New Yorker and barely driver, accompanied by small nieces and nephews, maneuvering my rental car on that road. (Do you also think it's remarkable in general that there aren't far more traffic accidents than there are? Every time I am on the highway, I marvel at all of those adept and highly skilled and non-drowsy rule-followers.)
Enjoy and let's talk below about our butts and about Amanda's contribution to the wonderful world of beauty! And any other thing you want to talk or ask about.
I love you all in every way.
Jane
By Amanda Jane
I recently wrote about my self-consciousness about aging. If you missed it, I will recap. I’m 50, divorced and still decent looking and was afraid that if I didn’t land a permanent partner before my looks faded, I would be alone forever and likely trip, fall and die in my apartment and be eaten by my cat. The last part was not in my essay, but it was implied.
Soon after publishing that essay, I was dumped by my latest boyfriend. I was confused and devastated at first, then came to terms with it and am now kind of ecstatic about it, and here’s why. I realize that, ever since my divorce, I have been compromising on my standards for happiness in order to not be alone. This is because I’m not used to being without a partner and it’s always been a little scary to imagine. But I have at long last decided that I am not only OK with being alone, but am kind of excited about it – about finally getting to know this unfiltered, uncompromising, truly honest version of myself. Because of this, I am no longer afraid of getting old and wrinkled and un-sexy, as choosing a man who would only love me as I look now would be yet another compromise. So to hell with the hypothetical, shallow man I have been trying to stay beautiful for. You are released, and free to go terrorize some other insecure woman with a fear of aging.
Ironically, just as I am learning to embrace and love my aging body (within reason, of course), Jane and I have been discussing my new role as her beauty editor. Soul searcher that I am, I’ve wondered if maybe this is not a good idea. Should I really be testing and recommending beauty products at the same time as I’m learning to accept my physical self, as is? The answer, I am now certain, is yes. As a writer, my mission has always been to offer honest, vulnerable and realistic perspectives on everything. I would not want to waste my money on things that hadn’t been reviewed by someone like me, a person addicted to telling the truth, and realistic in her expectations of what products can and cannot do. Would you?
I know that if I don’t start talking about my butt soon, you are going to wonder if you’ve clicked on the wrong article, so here goes.
I’ve always had a nice butt. It’s not small, not enormous. It’s round and perky. It looks good in clothing, and just fine without. I might argue that it’s my best feature. At least, this was my perspective when I suggested to Jane that my first beauty essay be about butt-lifting products. “I’ll even take pictures of my butt, no problem!” I said, without a second thought.
After I ordered the three butt-appearance-improvement products I’m about to review, however, I studied my rear end in the mirror for the first time in a very long time, or perhaps ever. I’m not going to say it made me sad, but it was – puzzling. Had gravity finally worked its black magic on my derriere, or had I simply never looked at it so intently before? Unclear.
It’s a pretty funny thing, this portable seat-cushion we all tote around with us. I’ve done some research, and it turns out that butts evolved right around the time we came down from the trees and started walking on two legs. The glute muscles, the largest muscles in our bodies, helped us to balance when upright and helped us run long distances to chase and exhaust prey. Our protein consumption increased significantly right around the time butts started appearing, likely as a result of our new running and hunting abilities. Great work, God/Evolution/Mother Nature! The butts were a successful addition! And as for the round fat deposits that protect said glutes? What was their purpose, you ask, considering that twerking wouldn’t be invented for another 400 million years? As it turns out, our tushies are not fat by accident. These adipose deposits are the largest energy stores in the body, and, like the butt muscles, they became much more necessary when our ancestors started running long distances as they needed a reliable, steady source of fuel for their journeys. Next time you hear someone refer to someone else as a “fat-ass” (which I hope is never) you can tell them that this is a redundancy, as asses are supposed to be fat. Then tell them that 1985 called and it wants its favorite insult back.
So, back to my own butt. I have a master’s degree in exercise science which means that I know all of the “right” things to do to tone my butt even though I don’t always do them. I run and work out regularly, though not like a beast. But consistency is my super power. No matter the weather or my mood, I drag my ass (pun intended) to the gym or the Central Park Reservoir almost every day for a modest workout which is why my butt is in the decent-ish shape it’s in.
Still, I wondered. What, if anything, could I do to make it look a little better? I would never do anything surgical or injectable as I don’t think it’s worth the cost or risk for something I don’t look at or think about very often. Maybe if my butt were on my face, I would have a different opinion.
Like any good researcher, I went to Instagram to weigh my options and, not surprisingly, was instantly overwhelmed. After weeding out what I believed to be hogwash, I came up with the three items and one DIY option that I felt had more than a snowflake’s chance in hell of making my lady lumps even lovelier.
1. FOPIE Electronic Muscle Stimulator
$49.95
2 out of 5 stars
Have you ever wondered what the electric chair feels like? I never have, but now I’m pretty sure I know. Holy ouch. If you are a believer in “no pain, no gain” this masochistic device might provide the mind-over-matter boost your buttocks needs. The plastic covered belt, which you spray with water, strap to your booty, and adjust via remote control, causes involuntary muscle contractions, which are purported to lead to increased strength, firmness, and definition.
The good news: It doesn’t not work. Meaning that you can feel the muscles being stimulated, even at the lowest level.
The bad news: I have a very high pain tolerance (natural childbirth to a 9-pound baby, a ruptured appendix, a 20-year marriage to my ex-husband) and level one was intolerable for three minutes, let alone the 12 to 15 minutes, three times a day that is recommended. See the photo below of me wincing while trying to make my butt look cute.
The “worse” news: Even if I could have endured the above, muscle building for appearance purposes (and that’s what we’re talking about here, for better or worse) will not be effective without simultaneous fat loss. Spot reduction, or fat loss in a particular area from exercise, is an urban exercise legend, invented by people trying to sell things like that jiggly exercise belt thing from the 1950s, Thigh Masters in the 80s and the people who invented the product I’m currently reviewing.
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