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When I was in fourth grade, I thought that if I could only have glasses, braids and braces on my teeth I would be beyond ravishing.  Heads would spin in my direction as they caught the allure of my twin framed eyes, my silken braids gracefully sliding up and over my shoulders, and my teeth encapsulated in gray metal bands … kind of like Hannibal Lector in his iron mask … only cute. Oh, what a vision.  Hot, hot and hotter!

I knew with a rock-solid kind of certainty that those three beauty additions would set me on my stairway to heaven, changing my image from dull to doll.  Oh, such foolishness!  Such false hopefulness!  But, of course, the idea of beauty changes.  That was then, this is now.  I suppose the current inch-long false eyelashes would be a good comparison.  Great day in the morning!  They’re so thick and heavy—and so incredibly bogus—that vision must be impaired. Dumb and dumber.

I’m guessing that kids of today no longer covet braids.  So, too, with eyeglasses .  Now they all wear invisible contact lenses.  And their teeth!  Oh, m’gosh teeth can be straightened without using an ounce of metal; corrected so clandestinely transparent that even best friends cannot detect them.  To be sure, we modern folks think we’re pretty hot stuff coming up with all these novel ideas.  But hold on.  We’re not as almighty clever as we think we are.

Did you know that realigning crooked teeth goes all the way back to ancient times?  Hippocrates and Aristotle used to sit around in their steam baths contemplating ways in which to straighten unsightly teeth.  (For all we know, they invented that steam too!)  Archaeologists have surprisingly discovered numerous mummified bodies that appear to have metal bands wrapped around their teeth.  Even cat gut was used. Not sure how or why, but it was there.  Meow … ow!

The Etruscans buried their dead with dental contrivances to prevent the collapse of their teeth during the afterlife.  Now that was futuristic thinking!  And Egyptians in 3,000 BC, wore copper wires on their crooked teeth.  It’s true.  These were found in the dissipated mouths of their mummies.

Jump way ahead to the year 1669 when the French dentist, Pierre Fauchard, invented modern orthodontics.  He wrote a book about his methods: “The Surgeon Dentist”.  By the 1700s, French dentistry had made notable advances such as custom mouthguards and the removal of wisdom teeth in overcrowded mouths.  However, the real credit goes to Christophe-Francois Delabarre.  In 1819,  he came up with the first modern braces. He bent a flat metal strip around the teeth, then connected it with a thread. Clearly this was not a thread from his wife’s sewing basket, I think.  But then, what other kind was there?

There is more.  About 1768, 12-year-old Marie Antoinette was deemed not beautiful enough to wed the French grandson of Louis the Fifteenth. Several things about her did not make the grade, one being her crooked teeth! A dentist was hired to come poste haste to the castle and redo her smile.  An audacious chap, he promised that her pearlies would be straight in only three months, just in time for the nuptials. From his leather bag he pulled out the “Fauchard Bandeau.” (Remember he was the beforementioned father of orthodontics.) The bandeau was two crescent-shaped strips of metal that were set behind the upper and lower rows of teeth and looked like small gold horseshoes, perforated at regular intervals. Pity poor Marie, for she was in abject misery. I was, too.  The only difference I could see in her braces and mine was that she was given brandy.  As was her dentist!

So, you see, my wish for braces wasn’t anything new as folks down through the ages have suffered through them.  Unlike Marie, though, I had been yearning  for them since forever. The good news was that I did eventually get them.  Although I saw my metal mouth as undeniably cool, in the end they were a disappointment.  They in no way did anything towards advancing my being crowned Miss Anything.  Instead, much of the time my braces were little more than misery.  The sharp-edged merciless caps had to be shoved upwards and downwards, cutting into my tender oh-so-sensitive gums, and weekly the wires connected to those caps had to be twisted and pulled to coax each tooth into a new position.

Can you imagine the agony of having all 32 of your teeth repositioned at the same time?  Cat gut sounded like nirvana.  But quite honestly, I pondered if between making all the  violin bows  in the world and straightening all the teeth, would there even be enough cats?

Then there were the escapee wires!  They were the worst.  If a wire came off during school hours, the poor soul wearing it (me!)  had to go through the entire day with a long sharp wire sticking out of my mouth, wrapping itself around my cheek, then heading back towards my ear.   

Because the wire was connected to every cap, it hurt as the rogue tool of torture pulled against every last one of my teeth—all in opposite directions.  The reason these unshackled wires came free was usually of my own doing.  Like eating a sticky peanut butter sandwich was a sure bet it would escape, and eating taffey was, as you can imagine, verboten. OMG! What we endured in the quest for beauty!!  Where was betel nut when we needed it?

And following a meal, my smile looked like a clogged snow fence after a tornado had blown through.  Just imagine going for three years (world without end) with a large gray hole in your face where white pearlies should have been. You see, braces came only in battleship gray.  In contrast, the rainbow braces on the kids of today look like they just finished off an Easter Egg lunch.    And the miraculous Invisalign has made the whole process nearly invisible, hench its title.  Wonder how they deal with peanut butter?

As I said, realigning my teeth was not a fast project.  It took years.  I could hardly wait for the big reveal. When it finally arrived, I was gobsmacked over how many more teeth I had. Like they had bred under my caps and wires. My face was full of them!  And the previous gray oral cavity was now all white … well, sort of dingy cream.  Rather than smiling for the Miss America board of trustees, I would have to cover my mouth in embarrassment.   And, oh, did I mention that I had braces not because my teeth were crooked, but rather to prevent them from becoming crooked. Must have been some smooth-talking dentist who sold my folks that bill of goods!

I would like to report that this experience changed me for the better.  But no. For certain, beauty pageants did not come calling and over time my stubborn bottom teeth revolted, migrating back to where God had originally intended them to be.   

I would be amiss here if I did not mention that there is indeed one proven and permanent answer to crooked teeth.  Dentures!  We seldom see them today, but who among us elders does not remember seeing their grandparents’ false teeth in water glasses beside their beds?  Creeeeepy for sure!  But fun.