Photoshopping Real Women Into Cover Models

As much as I think I'd like to have this done (and I'm married to a photographer who can do it), would I be happy with the results? Interesting approach to an age old, or is it "old age", question.

 

My husband has a fabulous photography book of Hollywood stars from the 30s & 40s showing hand-retouched before and after shots of the most famous stars of those eras.  It is eye opening.

posted by BuzzFeed Video Feb. 13, 2014

Navigating 60

"They" say

Friends since grade school  Cali visit 2008

•      "It's just a number" 
•      "You're only as old as you feel" 
•      "Looking good is better than feeling   good" 
•      "Confidence is everything."

My number is 61.  Of late, I've been feeling substantially older and there's no trade-off for not feeling good.  Confidence?  It lies somewhere between a good day at work and how well my makeup goes on in the morning.  

I'm on that precarious balance beam between aging and OLD AGE.  No matter how often I walk toe to heel up and down the beam, I lean in towards the tired and decrepit side.  Yes.  I "lean in" but not the way Sheryl Sandberg advocates.  I'm tired and mad as hell and I don't want to play any more!

Pitty party petulant?  You bet.  Envious of my retiring friends with money saved?  Yes again.  Fear of the future?  Definitely.

Class of 1969 H.S. Reunion held 2008

What to do?

Possible options:

• Plastic surgery
• Frequent facials
• More exercise, less food
• More time spent with old friends
• Create an exit strategy for when you retire or get fired

Of course, applying work strategies to personal problems may or may not be the best solution.  But it is a dispassionate approach.  I can already rule out the plastic surgery.   I'd have to dip into retirement funds and that ain't gonna happen.  I was getting frequent facials for a while and they helped.  They're expensive, however, at $60 per.  That means something else has to go and it's not going to be my hair cuts & color every six weeks.  Those will be the last thing I ever give up.

More time spent with old friends my age is the most appealing.   We can talk without flinching about things forty years back, an uncomfortable elephant in the room when meeting new people not clued in to our exact decade in life.  Being a "Sixties" kid is not what it used to be.  I like the camaraderie of shared experiences.  It binds and comforts us.

Party in Westlake Village, CA  2008

My husband and I are thinking hard about our next act, where to live and how to afford it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and/or experiences on the subject of retirement planning.  Even if you're not there yet, you probably have ideas along the lines of what you'll do.

Getting in Touch With Myself

My husband calls this "Reality Check"...

 I call it " Good hair day...and not a bad picture."

When Less Is(n't) More

My 85 yr old MIL handed me another subscription to a magazine she ordered but can't relate to.  That's it on the left, More.  

More is aimed at women over 40.  It was a radical concept when it launched in 1988.  Magazines and advertisers were predominantly focused on 18-34 year olds. 

I was still in my thirties so I didn't read it and never developed an interest.  Now, I'm pretty much out of the demo entirely and that doesn't sit well at all.

Last night, while leafing through, I read the "Best Anti-Aging Beauty Ideas at 30,40,50,60".  As do most people who've crossed over into a new age group,  I'm straddling the decades.  I began with the 60 year old make up suggestions and worked my way backwards:  

• 60's - use face & eyelid primer, lose the concealer, waterproof mascara, eyelash curler, neutrals
• 50's - use primer, sheer concealer, eyelash curler, waterproof eye makeup, mattes
• 40's - use primer, vivid cheek & lip color, tinted moisturizer, shimmers 
• 30's - WTF Anything goes You're in your 30s.

I haven't used an eyelash curler in decades.  Perhaps they work better now?  I remember if I squeezed too often or long, eyelashes fell out.  

I can't get waterproof mascara or eye makeup off.  Never could.  The magazine experts recommend it if you're using eye cream as eye cream will rub off the mascara, eye & brow shadow giving you racoon eyes, lost brows and smeary eye shadow.  I usually have one or two makeup meltdowns by the end of day. 

I've tried primer and didn't like it.  It made me face feel dry and I have oily skin.  Perhaps there's a really good one but I notice the recommended brand changes & price goes up with each decade.  

Vivid colors, neutral colors, shimmers, mattes; beauty experts do not seem to be able to reach a consensus.  Some writers extol the virtues of a red red mouth no matter your age.  

The Diane Keaton photo I use for styling my hair

I have a photograph of Diane Keaton taped to my mirror.  I don't expect to look like her.  I do, however, style my hair like hers.  She's my muse of the moment.  When I was young, it was Sophia Loren.  I spent hours in front of the mirror trying to draw my eyeliner like hers. 

   

This is exactly how I did my make up in high school

The end result was not quite the same.

After reading the tips, I thought, "What happens when you're seventy?"

There are no provisions, no suggestions, no styling, make up, shoe suggestions.  I can't think of a single women's magazine I've seen that addresses the older woman in terms of style.  Do we just give up? 

Do what you gotta do.  If you're into make up and hair and girly stuff, enjoy it.  One blogger wrote yesterday of her 90 year old mother who still gets gussied up, has her hair done, puts on make up and likes to wear feminine peignoirs even in the hospital.

I kinda like that.

It Ain't Me Babe...Is It?

It's very hard to accept aging, no matter what anyone says. I look in the mirror and, if I'm really being honest with myself, I see an unfamiliar face.  Photographs increase my awareness of the changes I've undergone. The photographs tell the true story because they leave nothing to my imagination.  It's all there, in color. Yes ma'am. 


I am particularly touchy about it as this is another milestone birthday year.

My best friend from Jr. High, pictured here, hates having

her photograph taken.  Why?  No idea as she seems to look the best when we review the shots.  Nevertheless, she is and always has been the most reluctant to have her photo taken.

Another friend of mine is always cute and smiling  and our photographs together convey the fun we have.
When we were teens, she asked me to straighten her hair with Perma Straight.  We  became distracted and left it in too long and her hair came out in clumps!  Somehow, we laughed through it all.

This friend and I have shared some seriously hilarious times together. She never minds having her photo taken.  I have some doozies of her when we were in high school.  


What is interesting to me is to view photos of myself I once thought terrible and think,
"Well, that's not so  bad!" 
  
How 'bout you?

How To Celebrate Your 60th

Some people get face lifts.  Some throw themselves a big party.  Some take their trip of a lifetime.  Some people review their life and friends and ponder the future.  I've just done everything but the face lift.

I'm talking about "turning"; aging, having another birthday; getting old past the middle age mark.  Yes, I mean the big Six OH.  

Five of my friends and I celebrated our 60th birthdays in New Orleans this past week.  We went without our spouses or significant others because that's how we grew up, single and together, some of us since elementary school, all of us since junior high.

In many ways, it was as though no time had passed.  We share so much history, the bulk of it in our youth.  But we've stayed friends from a distance.

Our lives continue to intersect because we take the time to stay in touch.  It's not always perfect.  There has been anger and hurt feelings and sniping along the way, not unlike this trip.  However, what would life be without challenges?

We are beset by issues of varying degrees, some of us drink waaay too much, some have real physical  debilitation, some of us need to dial down the cranky meter more effectively but all of us are comparatively healthy.  Four days in New Orleans carousing, eating and walking will let you know real fast what kind of shape you are in.

I wish I could tell you we had an easy time together, that everyone got along.  Some of us really did our best to go with the flow.  But, by sixty, you are set in your ways and those of us less willing to bend made it tough on the rest.

I can say there was one very surprising revelation, a deep dark secret revealed.  There were minor admittances of indiscretions and stupid behavior as well.  But I viewed it as reaching out for acceptance, approval, forgiveness none of which were offered by one hundred per cent of the group.  Some of us have become more understanding with the years, some less so.

We are a mixed bag facing the rest of our lives.  I look forward to my future but I can't pretend not to mourn my past.  We were young, energetic and extremely bonded.  

And I miss that.

A Bit of SELF Examination

I call this blog "Women of a Certain Age" yet I seldom write about the topic.  I started it with the idea it would be about women what they think, what they do, who they are, where they see themselves at different ages.  Instead, I found myself seguing, time and again, into politics.   I probably should have called it "Woman of a Certain Age"  and let it be about my opinions and not feel I'm off topic.  But, it is what it is.

I've just read a very nice article in the August edition of SELF magazine, titled "Bring on the birthdays!".  It's under their self expression category swhich offers personal opinions of women of certain ages, in this case from 28 to 78.  Each person describes what her coming of age means to her.  The first vignette is by a woman aged 42 who describes overcoming her fear of being too old and too afraid to learn to surf.  She finds a "bald, wiry and short" guy to teach her, hangs in there and finally learns after years of wanting it but being afraid.  She describes it this way,

("A benefit of age is that you care less about looking foolish and you know the value of persistance.")

I certainly agree with her perspective; not sure I'd go surfing, but it gives me something to think about with respect to facing my own fears.

The eldest contributor writes of her reluctance to attend this year's family reunion at a lake.  She positions her dilemma:  sit on the shore in a coverup and watch her grandchildren cavort or participate?  Her decision,

"I will look at my 70 year-old sister, Susie, and grin.  Together we'll watch the grandchildren, so joyously alive, just like the two of us.  Then I'll shed my cover-up and there I'll be in my new bathing suit on my old body which, despite three mornings a week at the gym, continues to succumb to gravity."

Whew!  I know how that feels even if I'm not 78.   We've been going to a nearby lake and I've been in three of my bathing suits and they're all torturous.  I need to get a grip.

Another woman's essay, titled "At 50, I'm keeping my vow", writes about her decision never to lie about her age.

"It's because of a promise I made to another friend back in 1981...I was sitting on a metal chair in a hospital watchiing Ed die of AIDS.  He was 31...as I watched his chest stop moving, I could think only of what Ed would have traded for the chance to grow old.  So I silently vowed to honor the life he never got to finish by celebrating my ability to finish my own.  I promised myself I would never complain about my sheer luck at having the gift of another day.  Another decade."

I never lie about my age.  My reasons are not dramatic or because of an epiphany. I simply never lie about my age because my mother never lied about hers.  Her friends continued to get younger but Mother never budged.  I always admired her for that. 

Speaking of age, the MIL took free subscriptions to Glamour and SELF magazines, thinking they were age-appropriate for my taste.  I've enjoyed reading them even though they feel somehow like a guilty pleasure.  That said, when it's time to renew, I think I just might keep the SELF subscription.  It always has one article that resonates.

This Woman's Brain

Last night, while getting ready to leave work, I washed my hands in the restroom.  My co-worker was locking up when I realized I could not find my keys.  I began with the usual steps, dumping the entire contents of my purse on the table, looking around the bathroom perimeter, looking inside the bathroom where I knew I'd had them.  Damn! 

My co-worker, a 35 year old nice guy, unlocked the station doors and we began to search together.  I have 20+ years on this guy and I'm feeling guilty even though I know losing keys is BIG with men.  Anyway, I'm beginning to think I've gone looney tunes when he goes back to the rest room and returns with the keys.

"Where did you find them?"  I asked with shock.

"I retraced what I thought were your steps...washing of hands, towel drying, throwing towel away.  You threw your keys away with the paper towel."

Head slap!  Honest to God, I'd never have looked in that waste basket because you would not have convinced me I'd do such a thing. 

Another Turn of the Wheel

My husband awakened me with a nice cup of coffee with extra cream, just the way I like it.  He gave me an oversized card with a photo of the boys and I on the front.  My husband loves to make his own cards and they are all keepers.  Inside the sentiments were pithy quotes regarding my new status. 

"Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the hell happened." Cora Harvey Armstrong 

"Growing old is like being increaasingly penalized for a crime you have not committed."  Anthony Powell

And my favorite,  

"The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest.  You are always beng asked to do things and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down."  T. S. Eliot

Thanks, hon.  I feel better already!

Mirror Mirror On the Wall

Every Christmas, Santa fills my stocking with delightful small items; but this year he blew it.  This year, he  included something I viewed with intuitive alarm:  a small, round extreme magnification make up mirror.  Now, I don't know about you, but when you are a women of a certain age, you do not want to view yourself in the extreme.  You may need an average magnifying mirror in order to better see your face without squinting while you apply makeup.  Extreme is another matter. The number of times this thing enlarged my eye was so unexpected and abrupt, I dropped it in dismay. 

I look in the mirror every morning before and after makeup.  I am an optimist.  I generally feel I have very few lines or wrinkles or even age spots.  My skin is still on the oily side so I haven't the crepe paper texture so often associated with aging.  However, this mirror shows all my blemishes, crow's feet, enlarged pores and more.  It's like putting myself under a microscope and recoiling from what I now see.  Aarrggh! 

Don't get me wrong, I am trying very hard to age gracefully, sans face lifts, botox and whatever else people use to slow the process.  But, I still have my illusions and that mirror will shatter them if I keep it.  Can't break it as I'll have seven years of bad luck.

I think I'll wrap it and give it to one of my friends.

Photo from freeimages.com

Birthday

Today is my birthday.  I'm being taken to lunch.  I'm being taken to dinner.  Both very nice restaurants; gifts from friends and my husband.

I gifted myself yesterday with a manicure, pedicure and hot stone massage.  It was heaven and took the considerable edge off having yet another birthday.

 Gina's Nasturtiums by Carson Pritchard

The massage was the best part.  It left me feeling healed, inside and out.  My arthritis, achey muscles and fatigue were gone.  I felt the toxins leave my body.  The lemon, lavendar and tangerine oils revitalized me and the hot stones on the obvious knots eased my soreness.

I need to do this more often; baby myself, treat my body better.  Relieve my tension and my mind.  The last time I made a ritual of self healing was through polarity therapy which I loved.  But perhaps right now massage is the way to go.  Winter is coming;  the snow, ice and wind  bends me, dries my skin and brutalizes my joints. Perhaps I can stave off those elemental reactions.

I would tell you I feel reflective but my husband and I have huge changes upcoming and I'm saving reflections for them. I will need another massage once we've made it through the next five weeks. I'm superstitious or I'd tell you now.

It's all good.

Ghouls & Birthdays: A Metaphor

I don't know if it's the fact we're close to Halloween or that I'll soon turn 58 but, lately, I'm having dreams about being chased by ghouls and creepy characters.

Boris Karloff

For example, the other night I dreamed Boris Karloff was after me, chasing me through a huge outdoor compound.  I was trying to find my way out when I looked behind me to find him in mid-leap upon me.  I screamed bloody murder, woke myself up and was quite shaken til I realized it was a dream. 

I think this is a metaphor on aging.  The prospect of turning 58 is ghoulish.  My birthday is All Saints Day, the day after Halloween.  They are inextricably linked.  I'm a Scorpio, through and through, mind you, and you'd think I'd be dreaming about sex...or Robert Redford...or both.   But no.  Boris Karloff.  Jeez.

Meanings of Contentment

Malibu Lagoon by Carson Pritchard

After many years of striving for "things" and wanting more, I find myself surprisingly content with what I now have. I say "surprisingly" because it is a surprise...to me. I have always been very security minded; anxious to know I can pay my bills and there's money in the bank for a rainy day. When those things are not in place, I am riddled with anxiety and fear that tends to make me physically ill. So, the idea that I am finally learning the meaning of contentment is a big big surprise and a welcome one.

This occurred to me yesterday while sitting in church. Our wonderful minister was speaking about the things we need to pursue on a daily basis, one of which was to enjoy the life we have. I realized I do enjoy my life now. This wasn't always the case.

I have gone from the needy, striving, covetous position of having nothing and envying others to finding a place for myself in my relationships, my marriage, the working world. I had to evolve from dependence on my husband and friends to dependence on myself. I had to learn to take responsibility; not an easy thing to do when always looking outside myself for happiness.

It has taken 50+ years to understand that happiness truly does come from within. I was told this but never seemed to accept it. I always thought there should be more. But more is all in your head. It is perception and not reality. If you perceive yourself to be happy, you are and vice versa.

This weekend was a fulfilling and reflective series of events. My husband and I attended an art show fundraiser, mingling with the artistic members of our small community. It was a great deal of fun and a different kind of outing for us. Yesterday, our youngest son turned 21, a huge milestone for all concerned. We took seven people to dinner and then he and his friends invited us to one of our favorite bars for a drink. When he paid for our drinks, my husband was all smiles. "This is the way it should be!" he said. I knew what he meant.

We talked about how lucky we are to have two sweet, kind boys, well-liked by their friends, who include their parents in their hopes and dreams and fears. They fill us with pride. Did we do a good job? We did our best.

I do not have the money I wish I had, I do not have the physical health and energy I wish I had. But, I awaken each day, go to a job I like, see my friends often, write in my blog, read my books, garden, cook and participate in life. I'm so far from perfect it's pathetic. I'm so far from secure, it's laughable. But my expectations have lowered considerably. I'm becoming a little easier on myself; more forgiving. These are the things that contribute to my new found sense of well being and contentment.

The painting above is in a collection of art work by my childhood friend, Carson Pritchard. She's another talented artist whose work I want to share. Double click her name above to see her collected works.

Body Parts

I want my old body back; the one with my original hips and left knee intact with cartilage. I write this in frustration after watching a fitness enthusiast run wind sprints up a ski mountain . The bastard. I can no more do that now than fly to the moon.

I am twenty pounds overweight. I have degenerative osteoarthritis which, simply put, is the slow disintegration of the major weight bearing joints. Where's that svelte, willowy woman who stayed fit playing tennis four to five times a week swimming laps and running a two mile course each night for cardio stamina?

I should take solace in the fact I've recently lost ten pounds. It has improved my attitude about my looks. But I'm not there yet. As I've aged, I have become more sedentary. I spend too much time on the computer, both at work and at home. I use my car to travel for sales. I no longer take yoga class as I once did. I had a great teacher for several years but I've never found anyone to replace her and I have lost so much range of motion I find it very uncomfortable to do the poses. If I lived in a more populous area, I would most likely find yoga classes for people with more limited capabilities. But here it is "one size fits all".

Now it's an effort to get to the gym to ride a stationary bike or do the treadmill. I tell myself "more self discipline" is required. There are days and weeks where I am motivated to work out, eat right, not drink. I lost 4 lbs on our Florida vacation. I was active, swimming, biking and walking. The weather was so great. I just wanted to be outside all the time, doing things. Here, I have many excuses: I'm tired, overworked, the weather sucks, the bugs are fierce. I don't try. I should be kinder to myself, less critical of my shortcomings. But I also have an obligation to be the best I can be at this particular time in my life.

My wonderful Buddhist therapist says I am grieving. My husband agrees. It sounds ridiculous and over-the-top; but it rings true. I'll never again be what I once was, but, then I didn't know as much as I do now.

Is wisdom the trade off for youth? If it is, when do I learn acceptance?

Pain and Uncertainty

As a short postscript to Sunday's post, "Pain". I spoke with my family doc yesterday. She called to tell me she'd finally received the results of an exam I had with a rheumatologist. She said I looked "fine". Trouble is, she did not realize she was looking at a four year old examination.

She wants me to have another one.

Doctors always tell you they simply want to "rule out" things. But that is code and it's hard not to worry and wonder what you'll do if they find something.

I had the original exam because my best friend's mother encouraged me, no, demanded I have one. She had visited and been concerned about my health: two hip replacements and ongoing joint pain with a pending knee replacement. She is a nurse with a Phd who worked in cancer med at UCLA, so when she tells me to do something, I do it.

Back in '05, I received a clean bill of health and was greatly relieved because the rheumatoligist looks for many different things including some kind of necrosis of the bone. I'd never heard of that so that was a new scary one to contemplate. I waited and waited to finally receive the results via a letter. All was well.

Now I'm going to repeat the process. Should I? It's half a day off work to drive the 80 miles to this specialist. But it's more than that. It's the repeat performance; the waiting; the uncertainty. Part of me says to ignore it and go on with my life because what will I do if they find something? Avoidance issues.

My father would say I'm "borrowing trouble". He'd probably be right.

Pain

My best friend and I had an hour long talk on the phone yesterday. We are on opposite coasts. We catch up when we can. We promised to have a discussion about our feelings on aging but as it turned out, we talked about our pain; physical pain, that is.

We've known one another since we were fourteen. No pain then. It's something we're each trying to get used to without much success. I take a lot of acetaminophen and ibuprofen. She suffers the pain so she can have her wine at night. You see, alcohol and certain pain relievers are both hard on the liver. It's a double whammy if you aren't careful.

Today I tried to do a simple 35 minute yoga routine that includes lunges & hip bends and I could not do it. I lasted three minutes. It just hurt too much.

Now, it's not this way every day. Some days I am in good shape, fairly limber and have a limited but not unreasonable range of motion. Other days, everything hurts and I just want to sit or lie down.

But then there are my other friends in constant, unrelenting pain. One has had a spinal fusion and many other operations. She has metal rods in her spine. They attach horizontally and vertically. I can't explain it better than that. The x rays tell the tale. She stands straight as an arrow and will never again bend at the waist. She is never out of pain. So what the hell do I have to complain about?

The Ambivalence of Aging Part 2: Facelifts

I would be a liar if I said I never thought about having plastic surgery. Part of the aging process involves the contemplation of whether to have "work done": a face lift, a chin lift, or just my neck reined in! Watching the Academy Awards, or any tv for that matter, gives perspective to the question of To Lift or Not to Lift?

I have, for many years, said all of the following:

1) I'll never do that
2) I've earned the lines and wrinkles I have
3) It's vain
4) We should grow old gracefully.
5) I'm scared to let anyone carve on me
6) I can't afford it

The last two are probably the most honest. The first three are bombast. I'm not a viewer of "Nip/Tuck". Maybe I should be. I assume it's all about sex with your plastic surgeon.

All I know is, every time I see a commercial for the string that lifts your chin up, eliminating what I fondly call a "chicken neck" ...I WANT ONE!

Now, I have neither the time nor the money for any elective surgery at all. But I can no longer say I don't want it.

Reasons to do it:
Racquel Welch looks great! (Of course, she's great looking to begin with. )
Sophia Loren looks great! (ditto).
Barbara Walters looks great for her age.
Victoria Principal (I hear she was married to a plastic surgeon + she has a skin care line.)
Jane Fonda looks really good.
Pamela Harrington (deceased) is reputed to have had one of the great face lifts of all time.

Reasons not to do it:
Faye Dunaway (she's a cut or two away from looking like the Cat Woman).
Mary Tyler Moore (I hear she was or is married to a plastic surgeon. Too bad he isn't as good
as Victoria Principal's ex).
Joan Rivers (nuf said).
Lisa Rinna (her mouth looks funny)
Lauren Bacall (she's never had one and I believe her).

I can make a case for either decision but the funny thing is, the "Reasons Not to do it" are the ones that come most easily to mind. Perhaps that is because there have been so many good ones nobody is really aware of them?

What do you think? I mean, really, what do you think?

The Ambivalence of Aging

My best friend and I just made a commitment to take some time over this three day weekend to talk about how we are dealing with aging. She's on the West Coast and I'm in New England so we're going to plan a call.

This came from an idea my therapist put forth that I need to get my feelings about the loss of my looks and my figure and my youth out on the table. He feels I bury them and do not give them credence. He asked if I have someone with whom I could discuss them and I said "Only my husband but he really gets tired of hearing about it." He asked about my girlfriends in New England. I replied they are all younger than I and at different stages in their lives. The best situation for me would be to have a get together with my oldest friends as we are all very close in age.

At first I was resistant to this idea. I said I felt I should be "able to handle it." He looked amused and asked if I felt I should be "above it all" and I said "Yes." I find it humiliating to be so hung up on my looks. It's so shallow. Never mind I was born and raised in Los Angeles, the capital of superficial. But he was very insistent that I am not alone and by talking about it with others I will find we all have similar feelings of loss and sadness and confusion, etc. I think he likens it to a grieving process.

So, this morning I emailed my best friend and mentioned the discussion with him just to see what she'd say. She has always been a pragmatic person and I expected some kind of sage response. Instead she replied,

"I think I need a chat about all this too. It is very hard...losing your looks, losing your body, your health. When shall we chat?"

Wow! Not only was I surprized but I feel expectant, that is, looking forward to it.

I'll keep you posted.

My Best Friends

These are six of my girlfriends. With one exception, we all went to high school together. We were friends when this photo was taken almost twenty years ago and we're friends today. The basis of our enduring friendships are probably more complicated than I can explain but I guess we just worked at it. Long term friendships are a combination of loyalty, love, caring, empathy and being there for the other person whenever possible. At least, those are the traits I most admire in a friend.

My husband can have his dogs, I'll take my girlfriends!

High School Reunion: Prelude

I can't believe it but I'm going home for a 40th high school reunion. It sounds so old it's frightening. I had been looking forward to it for a while. Many of my friends wanted to go and, as I planned to go home anyway, I thought it would be great. As the date grows ever near, however, many of my friends are changing their minds. Now I find myself going with my one girlfriend from elementary school, who is also flying to the left coast from the right. We're spending $110 for the event, $140 for the room (I know, cheap for a Marriot...but STILL) and who knows what for a flattering dress and foundation garment that will suck in all the places that need to be girdled. That's alot of places.

My husband is encouraging. "Go!" he says. "You always have a good time."

I hope so. It hardly seems worth it. I mean, the people I thought I'd be hanging out with aren't going, except for a handful. And the memory of the last one I attended, the 25th, is that I had to squint at every name tag to figure out who the hell I was talking to. It seemed rude but also embarrasssing.

Well, I will notate my trip and it should be memorable. I have 10 days of visitng friends and family in California before the fated affair. We shall see.

One thing I should note, now that only a few of my closest friends are going, I no longer feel that terrible need to wear a dynamite dress, create an un-wiltable hair style, and wear makeup that won't melt. I am wearing false eyelashes. Love 'em and they are back in vogue. Other than that, eh!