When we were young and beautiful

I never thought I was pretty when young. However, most people think my daughter looks exactly like me when that age and she is very pretty. How is that possible????

I can remember getting wolf whistles and feeling good about it. When I did get compliments I didn’t take them seriously as I lacked self confidence.
My DD and her DH had friends around to watch sport and chill. A couple of the guys asked who the woman was in a picture on the bookcase. It was me and my DH at a party when we started dating years ago. Both of the friends said that I was really good looking and how lovely and slim I was. I was in my late thirties so it was a most welcome compliment.

A passage from the Alchemist
Paulo Coelho

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

'Why do you weep?' the goddesses asked.

'I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied.

'Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,' they said, 'for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.'

'But... was Narcissus beautiful?' the lake asked.

'Who better than you to know that?' the goddesses asked in wonder. 'After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!'

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

'I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.'

'What a lovely story,' the alchemist thought.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

You only seem to find out later that people found you attractive.

I suppose it’s the same for blokes. I used to fancy a lad who worked in the local butchers, but just admired him from afar.
And another one who worked in the hardware shop.

I didn’t get out much!

Yep, as a teenager I got my fair share of creepy comments from random strangers, but I considered them to be harassment rather than compliments.

My DH once told me I was the smartest person he'd met.

I remember that but I don't remember any of the "compliments" from random men in the street.

Agree the French and Italians make a girl feel good, whether you are 19 or 90! And you didn’t have to be particularly beautiful. Such charmers!

I remember getting wolf whistles when I walked around. Very non PC these days but I was flattered and used to like it.Did my self esteem good as I was quite a shy person when I was young. Another thing when you are young,you can stuff your face and never put on an ounce of fat. Those were the days.

I was the dumpy, shy, bookish duckling in my schooldays. The swan emerged in my 20s when I lost weight and became more confident. I have a studio photo that shows me in a very good light and keep it to remind me that I once had looks! Not that I can remember any great compliments - I suppose actions spoke louder than words - iyswim. [blush[

Me too Ashcombe. I had a blond, pretty sister and I was/am the plain one. Years ago the most attention I got was a sore bottom from the “pinchers” in Italy. I think that “custom” has ceased now thankfully.

I can remember in the '60s rarely going out without getting chatted up. Even once when my DH went to the loo a man rushed over to me and said 'What time do you dump the bloke?'. I loved it all. Oh well, all good things come to an end

I was never beautiful but had a cracking pair of legs (not now, I might add!). And yes Yammy miniskirts were very mini. I worked at the BBC aged 19. The place had a sweeping staircase. When I left to get married I was presented with a box of knickers (as well as other presents) 'In memory of miniskirts'. I was very naive and hadn't realised the view I presented climbing the stairs.

I had a huge crush on a junior manager when I was 17 he wasn’t much older, the week I was about to get married he told me he liked me a lot I was beautiful and if things were different. If only he’d said something sooner, but hey ho I tell myself he never really meant it.

My GD found a photo of me with my late father she sort of guessed who he was from other photos but me not a chance.
We all wore minis so our legs appeared to go up to our armpits,had long sunstreaked hair and were always heavily tanned in summer.
Now most are at least a stone heavier in my case more and all that sun has taken its toll.
I fell for the one who wasn't a flatter still isn't.

I trust you have seen the lovely film "Letters to Juliet". Stunning Italian setting too.

I’d not heard of it, Ellianne, but it looks like one to look out for. Thank you.

I’m struggling to recall any compliments from those days, apart from a backhanded one…….

My sister was always regarded as the pretty one and much less troublesome than me, according to Mum! A friend's grandmother remarking on my sister's good looks must have seen this thirteen year old's face fall as she quickly added,

“Well, you're not bad looking yourself!”

Maggiemaybe

The Italians have got making a woman feel special down to a fine art. I once spent a few hours exploring Taormina on my own and had some lovely compliments. A restaurant owner offered me a free meal, another gave me a flower as I sat outside a cafe and a handsome young man wanted to whisk me off on a Godfather trail on his motorbike - I may of course never have been seen again, but hey……

I was in my fifties at the time and certainly no oil painting.

I trust you have seen the lovely film "Letters to Juliet". Stunning Italian setting too.

I showed my grandson a photo of OH and me in our finery at a ball in the mess about 30 years ago. He assured me with great authority that it was not me in the photo!

Maggie May was a prostitute in Liverpool!

The Italians have got making a woman feel special down to a fine art. I once spent a few hours exploring Taormina on my own and had some lovely compliments. A restaurant owner offered me a free meal, another gave me a flower as I sat outside a cafe and a handsome young man wanted to whisk me off on a Godfather trail on his motorbike - I may of course never have been seen again, but hey……

I was in my fifties at the time and certainly no oil painting.

Many years ago, I did a supply job in a school, where the Depute Head was the sister of an old school of friend of mine.
She said, that her brother had had a thing about me, but could never pluck up the courage to say so! She was a bit late telling me, I was married by then! Damn!!!

I agree with others that it wasn't about being pretty or beautiful, but about being attractive.

French men are pretty good at it too!
(I once left a devastated French fiancé behind in France!)

I was never beautiful, but being young, slim. with long hair, and gorgeous hippyish clothes made me feel good about myself.
I was never the girl everyone lusted over, but I had a few admirers, and yes, it felt good!

A devotee once told me when he listened to Maggie May be always thought of me. ( back handed but well meant.)

Oh dear, I’d have had to dump him for that. I used to cringe when I had it played in my honour by people who’d never listened to the creepy lyrics.