Tag: Zoom

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?”  

Rising From the Dead in Beverly Hills

           Rising from the Dead in Beverly Hills

“Life Moves Pretty Fast. If You Don’t Stop And Look Around Once In A While, You Could Miss It.” Ferris Bueller.

The pandemic was strange times for the human species. Suddenly our ability to enjoy human contact, to schmooze and to just get up, get out of bed and join the world disappeared.

And because we are adaptable beings we soon grew used to being alone and devoid of socialization.

The first time I left the house during the pandemic after being inside for three months, I armed myself with mask, sanitizers and rubber gloves to brave the outside world and go to the Burger King drive thru. 

I recall how odd it felt to be in daylight and driving around the empty streets of Los Angeles. Quite foreign as though I’d landed in a some new land conjured up by Aldus Huxley.

We were all compliant and also frightened that one misstep could lead us into the land of COVID and most terrified of that outcome. Being creatures of habit we adjusted to our new normal.

So we stayed in with our families, partners, kids or alone and contented ourselves to binge watch Netflix and other streaming channels, cook, eat and embrace new hobbies until it became life during COVID.

We learned a new meaning for the word Zoom and despite many who continued to exhibit a healthy lifestyle, most became rather lazy and stagnant. Yes, I was among those who became a couch potato including the frozen French fries I now crunched up in the air fryer.

They were strange times that became quite familiar and coming back was a slow, unsteady process.

COVID never simply ended. No bell rang to announce shutdown was over or life was back to normal. We crept inch-by-inch back into a world that was now transformed.

We ventured out but were met with masked strangers. The smiles we had once enjoyed from passers by were now hidden beneath a sea of cloth as we rushed through our day, trying desperately to avoid that thing still hovering in the air waiting to destroy our health.

COVID was and remained a thing to this day.

I caught it this year after battling successfully against its chaos. Many others I know also caught it the end of last year and beginning of 2023.

Some had bad cases, some light, some had the strain that lingers and refuses to leave its host.

It has also left us with the fear of what else might be in those labs waiting to escape and attack, perhaps far more aggressively this time.

It’s a far cry from the things we once feared: LA traffic, our cholesterol levels, politicians or gaining weight and not getting into our outfit for the reunion.

It was a scary reminder of what the evildoers can accomplish if they wish and not since 9/11 had the world been in such a fragile state.

I as many others wondered if life would ever feel the same. If we’d be able to just go to parties, events or theaters and relax without that ominous feeling a cloud hovers above.

The other night I received my answer when for the first time since the lockdown the City of Beverly Hills held its Backdraft Ball to honor our firefighters.

In the previous few years it had been reduced to an online auction, but this year we all ventured back to the Beverly Hilton once more to eat, spend money and enjoy an evening with so many people we’d been physically estranged from for years.

It felt weird to be getting dressed up again and donning jewelry and clothing that had been dormant so long.

I wondered how it would feel to see everyone and how’d they’d changed. Let’s face it at this age we’d all aged, period.

I am well aware we live in a different world now on so many levels. I was quite aware how odd it felt to be back in socialization mode and even a bit apprehensive. 

Seeing everyone turned out to be a fantastic feeling. People were upbeat and genuinely happy to be back in their world. Although I noticed the years had weathered us all a bit, people’s smiles were sincere and luminescent and there was no doubt everyone was feeling a giant adrenalin rush at the schmooze fest.

As with all social groupings despite how many were there and the number was well over 400, one does tend to notice who wasn’t; causing a tinge of sadness to creep into the proceedings.

Some dear friends were conspicuously absent and it felt bittersweet despite the upbeat tone in the room.

Yes, it was a relief to be among the living once more, but it was also a reminder that despite how much we choose to move forward, we can never erase the last few years and the toll it took on our psyches. 

Because we’re human we will strive to forget, to be optimistic about the future and pretend it was a bad dream, but that will not be entirely possible. It has changed us all. The world is a different place because the worst actually happened and we are all aware it did, it can and very well may again someday.

It must be similar to the way the Japanese felt after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, when the unthinkable became thinkable.

We all move on, go on living, loving, breathing and coping. It’s what humans do to survive. 

But no amount of gatherings, workdays or Superball parties can erase the memory of a time no one believed could come or the knowledge we’re not invincible, but actually quite human with all the good and bad that entails. It also reminded us to take Ferris Bueller’s words to heart and continue living our lives to the fullest each day. It’s what we have been taught to do to survive and the lesson resonates with us now more than ever. 

Grandmas Need Hugs to Survive

 

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This new normal is an exercise in self control personified.

Grandparents have now been relegated to seeing their grandchildren via Face time or Zoom, neither of which is conducive to this Grammy’s needs.

Sure I can see my grandsons as they carry the phone around with them through their activities and I can pseudo join them in their daily routine for a short time. I applaud the technology that allows us access in these dangerous times.

However, let me say loud and clear, iphones are no substitute for smelling your grandson’s hair and hugging him until he says Grammy you’re squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.

This quarantine, although necessary has been difficult for grandparents.

We are told by our children, “make sure you walk and stay active.” I say you can’t watch Netflix and lump all your other activities together. All multi tasking aside it’s truly difficult to relax while you’re trying to use your foot pedal bike, shove Cherry Garcia into your mouth, do a jigsaw puzzle and watch Grace and Frankie at the same time.

When this is over I will not be able to sit still and simply relax without feeling I must be doing a million different things to avoid my hardening arteries from turning to stone.

There are so many things one must not do. No news on television lest we want to hang ourselves. No cooking unless one wants to become so fat that when we are allowed out the door we will not be able to fit through the door. Nothing will feel as good as breathing the stale air in a mall, eating the greasy over-spiced food in a food court or shopping a sale.

Yet with all the things we miss in our daily routine, Grandmas need kisses and hugs and the scent of their grandchildren to stay alive.

I almost feel sorry for my grandsons because I have months to make up for. There will be retroactive hugs and kisses to secure and that will take extra time.

So what will be the response of our grandchildren?

Will they allow all that extra affection? Will they allow those long stares and proud smiles? Will they be annoyed and say, Grammy, stop staring at me?

Will there be a backlash? Will our grandchildren rebel and say no more? Will we have to live with cuddling cutbacks if we come on too strong? And how can we not come on too strong when we are let out of quarantine jail and allowed to get within hugging distance again?

We’ve had months of withdrawal. We are chomping at the bit to see those little faces we love up close and personal. Who can blame us for a little overdoing? Am I perhaps a bit melodramatic? Well staring at the damn walls and reruns of the West Wing have created more than just a little desperation here!

Hopefully our grandchildren will understand how excited we are to make up for lost time.

Okay, so I know self-control will have to be the rule of the day when I am allowed near my grandsons once more.

I shall practice restraint and time my hugs to be just short of annoying.

My staring at their adorable faces will have to be monitored and shortened although I’m afraid I won’t be able to take my eyes off them.

These are hard Grammy times and I’m feeling the burn here.

It’s more than an exercise in self-control, it’s an exercise in the pain of withdrawal from a perfectly acceptable drug—my grandchildren. I’m addicted and I’m not ashamed to speak it out loud.

I also know I’m not the only grandparent out there who is hurting. There is something about being in the company of your grandchildren that lowers blood pressure, allows one’s tired old heart to beat with a renewed sense of joy and youth, and the sheer act of smiling so hard at the sight of them takes years off one’s face.

What is one to do when separated from the most powerful youth drug on the planet? I can’t imagine I’ll have enough time to catch up on my dosage once this is over.

Grandchildren are the fountains of youth. Their smiles contain all the secrets of the universe and they are the sun to my planet.

So I must say to all grandparents, hang in there and double up on your dosage when we are allowed to return to the universe that keeps us young and excited about life. Until then please stay safe and healthy and hopeful about the future. That sense of hope and optimism is something we all can pass down to our offspring.