There may be a wrinkle or two in this story, but I’ll stick my neck out and name the store where it happened.
About three weeks ago, I was casually walking down the aisles of Costco acting as if I was there to shop and not eat lunch. The day — and the ladies with the creme puff samples — smiled. I was in a good mood.
But just as I rounded the corner where the bread has always been for my entire lifetime, I was plucked from my reverie. Cosmetic products had replaced whole wheat.
The sign “GOT TURKEY NECK?” nearly flapped me in the face.
Never miss a local story.
Since I wasn’t in the row with the frozen turkeys, I knew they weren’t referring to giblets. Instead, they were commenting on mine.
I pulled my turtleneck higher and inched toward the alluring cream. The StriVectin promised to erase years that a fall sweater couldn’t.
I feel badly about my neck. Nora Efron does, too. She even wrote a book with that title and women gobbled it up.
Ms. Efron doesn’t have an axe to grind about wrinkles, but she merely points out that aging boomers suddenly find high-necked sweaters, scarves and bangs quite fashionable. She also has a whole chapter on handbags.
Like a lot of women who still like to “strut their stuff,” we’re a little nervous about going outside too close to Thanksgiving. But maybe this miracle cream could do the trick.
However, before I believe any gobbledygook written by marketers, I need to do some more research — and hear from some women who can talk turkey.
Please tell me. Does StriVectin really work?
Once I get some answers, I’ll make a decision on whether I’ll invest cash comparable to a week’s worth of turkey dinners. In the meantime, I’ll carry a very distracting purse.