Work

No, not that kind.  La plastique kind.

Does anyone else think Baz has had some?

Let’s face it, he’s looking a little Hoges-esque.

And Hoges is looking more and more like Donatella Versace.

And Burt Reynolds?  Let’s barely go there.

It’s that almost undefinable softening about the browbone, something mysterious going on about the lids, and the reach-for-the-sky brow, à la Ms Minogue sr.

All in all, not manly.

What would Clark Gable make of all this?

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn…for man fillers.”

Or Greg Peck?

Atticus Finch didn’t care about eye baggage!

Or La all-time man of dreams, Jimmy Stewart?

“What is it you want, Mary? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey, that’s a good idea. I’ll give you the moon.”

Look at those forehead lines, each one earned through years of throwing earnest, beseeching looks in the direction of his on-screen ladyloves.

Triv could be off the money here, but I suspect these Hollywood gents of old would be horrified, horrified by manwork.  All they had to rely on to disguise the effects of ageing — if they chose to do so at all  — was a vas-smeared camera lens and some manual touching-up of their piccies by studio publicity wonks.

We’re all victims of our own vanity to some degree.  But is it sexist to find it more  distasteful when it’s done by fellas?

Ciao.