Posts

I’ve Been Naughty. Now I’m Getting Spanx-ed

Calories, then Compression and Depression

I've Been Naughty. Now I'm Getting Spanx-ed

‘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

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Far-from-the-Runway Runaway Thoughts

An Unstylish Fashion Maven Speaks Her Mind!

Far from the runway runaway thoughts

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

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In Praise of Pantyhose

A Princess and This Pauper Share Sheer Delights

In Praise of Pantyhose

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

Silver Necklace Shopping: Bring on the Bling

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme Some Credit

Silver Necklace Shopping

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

Apples are OK. Compliments are Better

A Compliment a Day Keeps the Old Age Blues at Bay

apples and compliments make for good health

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

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Do Your Ears Hang Low?

Heavy is the Burden of Earrings and Age

sad dog with droopy ears

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.

Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?

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?

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My Pain-free, Nonsurgical Facelift

Growing up in Las Vegas, surrounded by exaggerated showgirl images of womanly perfection, a girl gets a harsh sense of her own physical imperfections.

Growing up anywhere in America, bombarded by plastic surgery-altered images of celebrities, a woman gets a clear image of a possible path to physical perfection or at least improvement.

In my youth, I scoffed at the idea of surgical alternations, but now that I’m older, I’m not so sure. Like many a middle-aged woman, I stare in the mirror and catalog a growing litany of facial flaws – jowls, bags under the eyes, thinning lips. Need I say more? And so, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should rethink that long-held anti-plastic surgery stance.

Well, amazingly I just found a non-surgical solution to my sagging features and equally sagging self-image – one that restores my former youthful glow and good-(ish) enough looks. And best of all, it didn’t involve a trip to the plastic surgeon’s office.

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Fat Fall Fashion Magazines

I bought Elle magazine this week. I could not resist its siren call. It was the September/Fall back-to-school issue, the fat issue. You know, the issue loaded with more ads and ostensibly more features than usual, touting the latest in Fall fashions and back-to-school styles. It is, in fact, the only time it is acceptable to use the words “fat” and “fashion magazine” in the same sentence, no less the same issue.

I didn’t really look at the cover. I was transported by the magazine’s girth and recollections of decades ago Fall issues when I really cared about hemlines and waistlines and whether bangs were in or out, hot or not, and in a general sense, what was what and all the latest whatnots.

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