Dressing Your Age is Like Dressing a Stuffed Turkey

Dressing Your Age is Like Dressing a Stuffed Turkey

Since spending more time on YouTube I’ve seen an abundance of women advising other women on how to dress.

How to look thinner, younger, taller, shorter, more modern, more stylish, more French and on and on. It’s like trying to figure out if you should stuff the Thanksgiving turkey or just bake the dressing in a casserole dish to let the poor bird breathe.

My first response to these self-proclaimed fashion experts is, funny you don’t look like Anna Wintour or Diana Vreeland.

And since they’re not top dog fashionistas, why should I take their advice? But I watch despite myself to see if there are any little stylish tidbits that have been hiding in the fashion bat cave.

I am usually taken by how ordinary their own fashions seem to be. I don’t remember once seeing their outfits and saying, “Wow I’d like to look like that.”

I’ve always believed fashion has to capture us and spark some type of excitement. A pair of jeans and a striped t-shirt may be standard fare and always acceptable, but sparking, not so much.

If I were taking advice on looking fabulous, I’d take it from Giorgio Armani or Ralph Lauren.

Help me Giorgio, Help Me!

I have come to the conclusion there is fashion and then there is dressing appropriately.

They are two different things.

I think we forget that fashion can be fun. In our need to fit in when we’re young we followed the crowd. Dressing with pizazz or creativity has always been the mark of a rebellious nature.

Yet runway shows are most often over-the-top clothing one would never wear in their daily life. Oh sure I’ve seen high school girls more topless than runway models, but that’s their mother’s problem.

So because you reach a certain age does that mean fun with fashion days are over?

Once it was unheard of for women to wear slacks. Now women in their nineties are wearing jeans. And if men’s ties are “in” why can’t we sport that look?

Yet as we age it seems we are less likely to take risks or push the envelope.

It suddenly becomes all about comfort. Speaking for myself I don’t have the patience to be constrained any longer.

Wearing tight jeans, trying to stuff myself into a pair of unforgiving slacks with a tight waist and belt seems ludicrous to me now. I no longer have any desire to lie down on the bed to zip my Calvins. Let’s face it, I might not have the strength to get up afterward.

Elastic waists are a gift that allow us to move about unencumbered by buttons and fabrics that refuse to budge an inch.

The addition of spandex has allowed us to wear pants with a waist and zipper, yet the give is forgiving and the comfort level is high. Although there are differing opinions about who actually created elastic, it was in the mid 1800s in England. So, I guess we should give the Brits a pass on Harry and Meghan since we owe them.

Yet how does one who loves style continue to show individuality in their choices?

Jewelry? Yes, but now some of the so-called fashion experts advise that big colorful necklaces are “out” and small delicate jewelry is in. Good luck finding a thin chain in the folds of your turkey neck.

So many women opt for necklaces instead of surgery and one that comes to mind is Candice Bergan. Her neck was always covered with a statement piece to hide the ravages of time. Now apparently these look heavy and outdated.

During the pandemic our wardrobe suddenly consisted of sweats, sweats, and sweats.

Who needed jeans and a belt to watch Netflix or take a walk around the block?

At first when we reentered the world it was fun to get dressed. I pulled my favorite outfits out of the closet and oops, yep there it was. It seems the pandemic created a bit of a problem. Many of us learned that sitting around on our keesters caused expansion. Our waistlines grew in proportion to all those new recipes we tested and people even stopped wearing pants on Zoom calls. Talk about comfort.

So we switched into comfort mode.

Living in California I soon learned that there is a very slim line between casual and after-six-style.

I’m not sure if it’s the weather or just that old California laid-back lifestyle that dictates fashion.

People here think nothing of wearing jogging suits to a restaurant or the market.  Along with their Chanel bag and Cartier Love bracelet. Apparently, it’s some type of I’m-so-rich-I don’t-care Cali couture.

Dining with the ladies involves jeans and a sweater or shirt. Despite Beverly Hills’ reputation as so chic, residents think nothing of dressing down to lunch even in the poshest of eateries. I was at a semi-formal evening event recently and saw a man wearing jeans and a sports jacket.

So is it an age thing this comfort dressing, or are people just over it?

When I was in Paris many years ago, I was shocked by how Parisian women dressed.

High spike heels on those cobblestone streets, clacking as they walked. My feet ached every time I heard them take a step.

Scarfs loose and flowing behind them and coats with belts pulled in tightly to show off their slim waistlines. Don’t tell me you’re not throwing up those croissants, Bitch.

Now the only time I see women in the U.S. dressed to the nines in on TV shows about realtors. Apparently in real estate to sell a house you have to be a fashionista. They wear designer jewels and clothes with slits cut up to the tush and boobs hanging out of push-up bras. And what was your offer, Sir?

Us ordinary women seem content to don something comfortable to fulfill both a good look and great comfort.

If you’ve ever noticed a woman’s face walking in uncomfortable shoes it’s not a pretty sight.

Now happy feet seem to reign and it’s all about looking nice in relaxed luxury. Designer brands even offer athletic outfits and sneakers logoed up to the hilt.

The Doris Day, Pillow Talk look, that glamorous image women once sought to perfect seems a bit ancient today.  Could you imagine Jackie Kennedy showing us around the White House in jogging shorts?

And although so many women give in to the desire to pull out a favorite piece of jewelry now and then, we all seem to succumb to those spandex-laden jeans, long skirts and comfy tops that allow us to move without pain.

So I suppose although one’s hearing may be failing as we age, listening to our inner fashionista is still possible. Nowadays it seems fun with fashion means being comfortable and happy in both our own skin and apparel.

Design is no longer the dictate of Vogue editors but our own bodies. And my waistline is loudly yelling “Hello! I need more room here. And did you really need that extra piece of pizza?”  

Is Quarantine in Italy More Fattening?

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Is Quarantine in Italy More Fattening?

I have noticed while perusing Facebook and Instagram that most posts have something to do with food. People who never made anything but reservations are now suddenly future cooking show stars as they prepare new dishes for their families.

I applaud everyone setting out on their new kitchen journey, but for me it does beg the question—is the quarantine food better in Italy or France?

Perhaps I should be asking, why is it all about food?”

Of course there are great chefs and great food in America and I don’t wish to infer anything different, but hey being stuck in a home in Tuscany with an Italian grandma cooking, well come on let’s get real.

Homemade pasta, pizzas, minestrone, cannoli, tiramisu. Just a minute my mouth is watering here.

Okay I’m back.

There is no doubt Italian food is high on the list of everyone’s favorites and to be locked in with fresh pastas cooking daily, oh my. How fat can you get?

Who could say no to all the luscious foods being catered morning till night with a pot of Sunday gravy (sauce) constantly simmering on the stove? Not me.

They would have to roll me out the door at the end of this whole adventure because I would be stuffing food into my mouth non-stop. The only exercise I’m sure I’d get would be walking from the table to the stove or pizza oven to refill my plate.

I don’t mean to sound as though I’m playing favorites so let’s examine being quarantined in France.

Oh boy, chocolate croissants for breakfast, beurre blanc sauces and luscious creamy éclairs with a side of macrons.

The delicate touch of French cooking would not do much to prevent me from packing on the pounds. I would have to get up extra early to ensure I get to the croissants when they first came out of the oven.

I believe it’s almost impossible to be at home for such a length of time and not focus way too much on food. It’s a well-known fact when we’re all busy and productive our appetites take a back seat while boredom leads them into the forefront.

Okay, I just finished the first season of Fauda, what’s for lunch?

Now let me see, I’ll just watch another season of Shitt’s Creek and then have dinner. Wait, what should I have for dinner? Hmmm, let me check the freezer. You stand in front of the freezer watching your Hagen Daz melt as you scan the food and come up empty.

You check the refrigerator to get a feel for what might be appealing and you are left cold, literally with what catches your eye. So you wonder, should I order in? What can I get that I’ve been craving?

You spend another ten minutes trying to figure out what looks good for dinner and since you’re basically still full from lunch, your appetite isn’t really responding as you’d hoped and the signal is a bit hazy.

So you go back to the television and click back onto Netflix and in a few hours you’re starting to feel hungry and your attention shifts back to food.

This has now become a search for the most appealing dinner and you realize what you want for dinner isn’t available in your kitchen so you settle for cereal.

Now if that Italian Grandma had been busy cooking all day you would sit down to a dinner of homemade pasta, delicious meatballs and a tiramisu for dessert.

See? Fattening!

Captivity is not a conducive atmosphere for dieting.

When politicians mention the dangers of being quarantined in your homes, stress, depression, suicide, etc, they don’t mention the biggest danger—FAT!

Yes, this is good for the economy. Let’s face it when we get out again none of our clothes will fit so we’ll need to buy new things to wear. That’s positive for retailers, yet the negative is the extra pounds. Positive is more business for the gyms when they reopen. Negative is diabetes, heart disease, etc.

So there doesn’t seem to be a good answer for everyone here.

As a serious foodaholic being locked in with a refrigerator and access to food delivery to my door is making my fat cells dance for joy. They have been waiting my whole life for instant food on a whim and not even have to get in the car to shop.

I remember how I celebrated pizza delivery. That was the first step on the road to extra calories in an instant. Now whatever you want is available too quickly and too easily. Step number two on that road was elastic-waist pants.

Oh sure, all good news for my fat cells but bad for my diet.

So what can I do, fly to Italy and search Tuscany for my Italian grandmother who died many, many, many years ago?

It’s just me, Amazon, and my better angels screaming at me to stop carbo-loading and suck up the kale. Who will win? So far I’m holding my own, but chocolate is a formidable foe.

Am I glad I’m not in Italy or France? You bet I am. Excuse me I have a pot of sauce simmering on the stove. I remembered I’m part Italian grandma so bye bye cereal and hello minestrone. It ain’t Tuscany, but good pasta is worth its weight in gold anywhere on earth.