Picture it: Manhattan, 1997. I was Makeup Director at a fab 5th Avenue Salon. I’d go grab lunch with the beautiful, willowy, model-esque girl who worked at the front desk of the salon. She, 5’11 and 120 pounds. Me, two inches shorter and 30 pounds heavier. Off we’d go to the local deli for turkey sandwiches. The deli guy perked up at the sight of her – as though she walked into the deli to bear him children. We order two of the exact same sandwich.

We go back to the salon and unwrap our lunches. Her sandwhich is piled eight inches high with turkey and fixings. My “identical” sandwhich looks like a flattened panini by comparison. We trade. Every day. She remains tall and willowy. I, happy and well fed. I wonder if every aspect of our lives is affected the same way. Do the very beautiful get better deals on the rent? Upgraded to first class more often? Generally get bigger, better portions of everything? Seems to me if this is the case, it behooves us all to make the most of ourselves. Yes, charisma and charm go a long way too, but it seems a six pack and good genes can definitely improve one’s quality of life. Of course, you can always just hang with the gorgeous and trade sandwiches. It does seem easier than doing all those crunches…..