I know it’s silly, but lately, I’ve been dreaming of red lipstick. And so, this week — while wearing my mask and observing proper social distancing — I raced to the drug store and bought myself a tube of ruby-red. I rushed home, applied it, and instantly felt better.
What is it about red lipstick that’s so oh la la? Read more
It started with an email and two simple questions. I thought I’d get a few short replies. Instead, all week long, my inbox was flooded with replies. Clearly, I had touched a nerve. Read more
My mother was pro-mink. She believed fur symbolized luxury, style, wealth and to the manor born. Not me. I was decidedly anti-fur. I grew up in a cloth coat, pea- jacket, egalitarian world.
My mother was a native New Yorker, so fur was practical too, good for keeping the cold out. I, on the other hand, grew up in sunny Las Vegas. So I avoided the cold and the culture of fur for a long time.
But in my late 20s, I was D.C.-bound for an exciting new job. I was also in possession of a small insurance settlement from a leg injury. For my mother, the stars were aligned. She saw fur in my future and pounced. Read more
I couldn’t sleep last night. As I tossed and turned, I read an article that got me in a dither: Millennials don’t give a sheet! That’s right – they are rejecting top sheets. So, of course, I got up on the wrong side of the bed today, and as I made the bed, I decided I wanted to vent about, of all things, all things bedding!
A lot has changed in the world of bedding since I was a little girl. First, there’s this sheet crisis! Read more
‘Tis the season to over-indulge, true. But, alas, ’tis also the season to sequin, shimmy, and shake – all of which challenge chubby, out-of-shape, middle-aged me.
And while I can still wedge myself into my cute holiday clothes, do I look cute? Hardly. I more resemble that lump of coal Santa leaves children who have been naughty, not nice, than I do some hot party babe.
So, sadly I’m giving myself a Spanx-ing. Read more
Fall fashion season is here. The runways are overflowing with willowy models and haute couture commentary. So, who am I, admittedly un-chic, un-willowy, to offer my own runaway thoughts about fashion and style? Just a middle-aged muddling mom (MAMM) with a far-from-the-runway point-of-view! Read more
When the leaves start falling, a woman’s thoughts turn to … pantyhose? Well, for some of us. It’s true.
I belong to a dying breed of never-go-bare-legged women. Rare among womankind today, I wear pantyhose. Not just with formal night attire, but during the day too. Even in the summer. Even in the East when summertime humidity is swoon-worthy!
Now there are women who wear opaque tights when the outside temperature dips and wintery winds howl, but that’s not the legwear I’m talking about. There are also women who wear fishnet and other fashion-fad leg gear, but that’s not the hose in question.
What I’m referring to is the sheer, easy-to-run-and-ruin flesh-colored kind that has adorned my pasty white limbs since I aged out of knee-high socks. Read more
The other day, on a whim, I decided to buy myself a fancy silver necklace. I’ve never bought myself expensive jewelry before. When it came to the good stuff, the big bling-y, sparkling stuff, that arrived as gifts from parents, boyfriends, and for the past 32 years, Handsome Hubby.
But I was in the mood for instant gratification. I wanted the necklace right then and there. I didn’t feel like “hinting” and waiting for HH. I’m a big girl – more than a big girl, I’m middle-aged and – by God, I can buy my own bling!
So, faster than you can say “discretionary spending,” off I went on my mission to find that perfect piece of jewelry. What I got was something entirely different! Read more
My recipe for good health and vitality is not fresh fruit, but vanity. Yes, apples are nice, but compliments are so much better.
Yesterday I had several errands to run and a few appointments to keep. It was a busy day. So, I made an effort, did a bit more than just throw on some jeans. Truth be told, I did a lot more. I, as they used to say, gussied myself up. It paid off. I got four compliments from four different people.
One woman, a make-up artist at Bloomingdale’s no less, told me how much she liked my lipstick.
A passerby on the street complimented me on my cool jacket.
My lunch companion admired my green-lacquer necklace, and the waitress praised my shiny fire-engine-red nail polish.
I rode the BART home feeling pretty good about myself. I met my husband for dinner. He was tired and not feeling great. He offered no compliments or even much by way of conversation. It was a quick dinner, and home we went to a quiet evening of TV and sleep.
I thought about the compliments I had received that day. They were great. I sincerely appreciated them. Truth be told, I needed them the way someone in the Sahara Desert welcomes a sip of water. But they made me think. They were different than the compliments I used to get in “the old days.” Funny how we say “the old days” when what we actually mean is the days when we were young. Read more
Pick up a fashion magazine, any fashion magazine, any day of the week, and you’ll find all sorts of tips on how to keep your skin youthful looking, your body from aging, and your hair shiny and healthy. Sadly, however, there is one aging dilemma yet to receive widespread media attention, and that is the problem of droopy earlobes.
That’s right – droopy earlobes. It is one of those dirty little tricks Mom Nature plays on you. As you get older, your earlobes droop, and all those precious dainty button earrings you have, suddenly don’t look so cute on your now dangling, bobbing, overly-spacious lobes.
What’s a middle-aged fashionista supposed to do?