Meet Danielle. She’s a total fox, and refuses to age without a fight. But that battle hasn’t come cheaply or easily. She plays tennis three times a week, does Pilates twice, and does not eat dairy, gluten or sugar. She got a boob job 7 years ago so her figure is a frequent topic of discussion out on the golf course with the Friday afternoon banking crowd. Just as she hopes. She gets Botox every three months, fillers in her laugh lines, just completed her follow up microblading appointment, has had laser hair removal on every part of her body except her head (which receives bi-monthly keratin treatments along with $175 highlights). She recently got lip injections for the first time (ouch!) and lip blushing (ouch!) and now her lips really pop against her veneers. Danielle has the pain tolerance of a Navy Seal. When she wakes in the morning she barely has to do anything to get ready thanks to her tattooed eyeliner and lash extensions. And that’s good because it frees her up to get regular facials and see her new personal trainer. Sprinting backwards towards youth is a full time job, requiring a huge salary, so it’s a good thing Danielle is married to the city’s foremost proctologist Dr. Harold “The A$$ Man” Nedermeir. He loves to say “someone has to take care of all the a$$holes in this city!” at every cocktail party, or fundraiser, or soccer game, or golf game, or swim meet... Her favorite song is “Scars to Your Beautiful”.
Kate runs a thriving charity benefiting the homeless and somehow has time to be a doting mother to four children. And has her yoga certification. And no chin hairs....
This is the new Amy. This Amy would never have a gross refrigerator. She's not that kind of person. She's clean, organized and fresh. She feels sorry for the people with dirty fridge shelves and expired chicken stock boxes. She can't imagine having a 2 year old jar of pepperoncini peppers with mold on the inside of the lid. That's no way to live and Amy is glad she's the right kind of person. Yesterday Amy had two bags of clothes designated for Goodwill in her dining room corner. They'd been there for 2.5 months, eventually becoming invisible.
She slithers her way in and out of friend groups, wreaking havoc anywhere she can. She told you last week how much she admires you for not caring what you look like – she “just doesn’t feel right about leaving the house“ if she’s not completely put together.
