I Dream of Life Inside Jeannie’s Bottle

Does art imitate life or vice versa. It might be either. Do I believe that? Is art the driver of life or merely a reflection? I actually believe it’s both.

Art will push the boundaries of what’s acceptable and at times use imitation as creation.

Fifties and sixties television is a perfect example.

The norm at the time was women in the home. Men ruled the roost and women cooked the roast.

TV perpetuated these stereotypes with gusto.

Fifties Moms were portrayed as neat, well dressed, always coifed and able to perform their duties.

They kept a clean house, cooked healthy meals always adhering to the food pyramid, and considered their husbands the authority on the world outside the home.

Each lived and existed within their domain.

Fifties women were no more than updated cavewomen who cooked the game hubby provided and kept the cave clean and tidy.

I remember a Donna Reed show where there was a plumbing problem.

Her husband was busy so he couldn’t get around to the issue quickly enough to suit her. Donna Reed actually took it upon herself to call a plumber and deal with the leak.

When her husband learned she had “handled” the problem he was surprised. So complimentary that she had stepped out of her comfort zone to deal with a man’s job.

WOW. Can you imagine. A fifties Mom actually made a phone call to a plumber? How incredibly bold and modern of her. What will women accomplish next?

There were specific attitudes that not only reflected the times, but embraced and exploited them.

Samantha wasn’t allowed to be herself and took scolding after scolding from stupid Darrin if she dared use her magic powers. Unless of course they suited his needs.

Don’t even start me on a half-dressed Jeannie in that bottle. Can you say, every man’s fantasy? And she called Larry Hagman Master. Subtle? I think not.

Ozzie and Harriet even kept the father at home so he could be on-site overlord. No one ever seemed to ask or care how Ozzie paid the bills while he sat around in his cardigan sweater.

Father Knows Best is so obvious need I say more?

Even westerns were in on the joke. Cowboy shoots up the town, sheriff arrests badman and saves the women and children.

Yes, we knew the rules and the playbook, and although we grew slightly uncomfortable with it, we didn’t make waves. At least not yet.

TV and movies of the day were much the same except movies tended to push the envelope. They could because they weren’t entering your home.

If you wanted to see a racy movie like The Best of Everything, you went out and paid. And one of the reasons it was considered “racy” was it featured women working in a man’s world and alluded to sex. Tsk Tsk how revolutionary.

Movies could change mores, but Doris Day is proof that didn’t happen as much as was necessary. In the movie The Thrill of it All with James Garner, Doris is offered a position to be the face of a soap company.

Garner was upset because she wasn’t home to greet him at night like a tail-wagging cocker spaniel. He devised a plan to get her pregnant so she’d have to quit and stay home. Seriously?

Yes, men in movies could be portrayed as buffoons and television did begin to allow some to be portrayed that way. But always in a comic way.

Hello, Barney Fyfe. But Andy, who was a father, was the responsible and mature one of the pair. Always ready with sage advice for Opie and an endless supply of patience for Barney’s shenanigans.

Yes, there were certain expectations and no one complained much. Until they did.

As women began to explore life outside of the home television began reflecting more women at work.

The seventies had programs about policewomen, executives and bosses instead of just secretaries and housewives.  

The women’s movement effected not only the times, but the entertainment.

Women could be strong, bold and dynamic. It became no shock to anyone anymore that we were capable of calling a plumber to fix a leak. Or that fathers knew best only because Moms usually let them think that was true.

Art has never been fully aware of how much it affects the norms.

After a lifetime of watching television, going to movies and absorbing the intake, I see things clearly.

Yes, art imitates life, but it also seals the norms place in society.

No, viewers do not run out after seeing a cop show and rob a bank or become violent felons.

However, it does have negative impacts on the world.

By bombarding viewers with violence, crime and horrible people, the shock value wears off quickly.

Shock value is an important element in that it draws a line in the sand between what is acceptable and what is absolutely not.

The more we become accustomed to seeing evil, the more accepting of it we become.

Like a comic who uses the F-bomb over and over and it eventually loses its meaning.

No one is surprised anymore that politicians lie, in fact we expect them too.

Society is no longer shocked or shaking their heads by crime and violence. After all nothing could scare us as much as the evening news.

It’s as if we’ve come to expect the worst. And learned to live with it.

Can we blame this on television when network execs did fight valiantly to keep Mom home and Dad believing he was king of his domain?

Or was it inevitable that after seeing so much brutality in movies and on television we became too blasé about it.

That Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry became entertainment instead of a warning of cities turning into future war zones?

We’ve learned to tolerate evil because it was so easily allowed into our world. Crime, violence, harsh language, corruption and dishonesty are almost expected as part of the genre.

Perhaps we were just kidding ourselves all along. Buying the fairy tale that as long as Donna Reed was in her high heels and pearls stirring oatmeal, and Ozzie was in his cardigan chatting with Thorney, all was right with the world?

Or was art just a reflection of a world that changed so quickly we never saw it coming. One we had no desire to accept into our lives.

No wonder people watch reruns of the old shows and sigh at how uncomplicated life was then. All problems could be solved in half an hour.

Jeannie’s bottle sounds like a pretty good hiding place to me now. Move over Barbara, and could you teach me how to nod your head and conjure up dinner, please.

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?”