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I have a photo on my desk. It’s the kind of obligatory photo you find on desks around the world. It’s the image of my husband and I on our wedding day some 7 years ago.

Many a person has stood at my desk, admiring the photo, commenting on the clichéd look of love in our eyes. Some ask for detail regarding the dress designer, where the flowers came from and the name of the stunning setting etc. etc.; all of which I’m more than happy to share with them. Others just smile, no doubt reminiscing over their own wedding days of years gone by.

But saddened I have become by the last person to cast their eyes over my treasured memories. Dampened my heart, my colleague has with his less than diplomatic comments. Call me sensitive, call me idiotic to face despair at what may well have been carelessly phrased words, but my heart is now sore, and my ego is in tatters. For the man dared to say that back then I looked so beautiful, and then hastened to ask why I didn’t look like that anymore.

My immediate response after picking my mouth up from beneath my knees was to make a joke, to say that wearing the dress everyday is a bit much. Not to mention the hygienic consequences of wearing it daily. Added to this, the time needed to have my hair and makeup expertly applied/set far exceeds the normal hour I have each morning to: clothe myself, tidy up, feed the dogs, think about getting something out for supper, pick up my lunch, drop my daughter off at school, beat the traffic, put out the rubbish etc. Not to mention the cost of employing a full time stylist.

I laughed with him, but my heart fell to the depths of my stomach. For I didn’t think I looked that bad. I didn’t consider myself to be comparable to a dog’s breakfast.

But it did get me wondering about wedding photos and the image that wives eventually portray, as opposed to their wedding day stature of blindingly beautiful. For there is without a doubt, an absolute fact, that all brides look stunning on their wedding day, it’s their right; it’s their moment. The groom really only has to turn up with his dickey bow in place, ring in his best man’s pocket and a rose bud in his buttonhole. It’s relatively easy for them. Even the suit he adorns can be worn again. I have yet to meet a bride who has worn her white creation to a little function at the office, or the occasional Christmas Ball.

In all seriousness though, perhaps a couple of questions need to be posed? Such as do brides in fact change after the wedding day after acquiring the status of Mrs? Do they in essence let their beauty regime wane because now they have their man, or could it be time?

What could be the answers?

My bet is that they no longer have time to idle around the shops, seeking out dazzlingly outfits with their posse of girlfriends. They also no longer have precious time to sit in front of a mirror styling their hair, before creating a masterpiece with the multitude of cosmetics they have been lured to purchase. Delving deep into cosmetic bags to retrieve lip pumping gloss and age defying foundations.

Possibly Desperate Housewives, the latest TV craze to hit our screens, might offer some insight into why some can maintain the look while others cannot:

Take Susan, the divorced mother of one who always looking stunning. How is this possible we may ask? Perhaps because of the 2 following scenarios:

1.Her daughter is old enough to look after herself, she doesn’t need to be
dressed,washed or fed, leaving Mum ample time to do her thing before the mirror
2.No husband – mmm, lots of time to do what she wants to do

Gabrielle, the sexpot, dripping in gifts from a husband she’s bored with. Looks fabulous all the time. How does she do it?

1.Endless amounts of money and free time, provided by a doting husband
2.Regular exercise
3.Sexy Gardener and Lover
4.I suspect a Housekeeper; she can’t possibly have nails like that if she’s cleaning
5.Regular pampering at the beauty salon
6.No children

Nothing more needs to be said how Gabrielle does it; the reasons above speak for themselves.

Our final Desperate Housewife and probably in my mind the one who typifies best the title of the show and the problem at hand is Lynette.

Lynette is the wife who gave up her successful career in advertising to be mother, housekeeper, wife, chauffeur and lover amongst other things. She doesn’t swan around looking glamorous and fresh as a daisy. Well yes she does, but only with the use of her twins ADD medication. But without that, the woman is tired, fed up, dresses like a mummy, never has time to shop or do things for herself, and brings her gaggle of kids up minus her spouse.

Now there’s a woman after my own heart. She must surely have a wedding photo that doesn’t resemble her current shattered “look”. The other two, one can surmise, probably look better than the day they walked down the aisle, and why, because they have little to take care of other than themselves.

While finding satisfaction in knowing the reason I might look a little peaky around the edges is due to dare I say, circumstances beyond my control, it doesn’t alter the fact that I’d much prefer to be Desperate Housewife Susan or Gabrielle.

Now the only problem at hand is, how the hell am I going to do it?