http://www.rosannecash.com/monthly.html April 15 , 2005
Dear Friends,
I was going to write a passionate column about this whole 'culture of death, culture of life' thing, and the hypocrisy of people who support the death penalty and accuse the rest of us of being proponents of the 'culture of death' because we think the United States government should mind their own business when it comes to end-of-life issues, and I was also going to write about the Pope, and how, as a non-practicing Catholic I had great respect for him even though I disagree vehemently with the church on many issues, (one writer said it very eloquently for me, and many others: "We didn't always like the tune, but we loved the musician").....but I'm not. Going to write about those things, that is. This is an etiquette lesson for Women of a Certain Age, that age being any age over 40. And what experience or education qualifies me to write such a column, you may ask? With great respect and mounting frustration, I submit 1) a heightened sense of self-conciousness, 2) a Catholic school upbringing and 3) the fact that I spend a lot of time in baggage claim, qualifies me to dispense
MRS L.'S GUIDE TO BASIC REFINEMENT FOR WOMEN OF A CERTAIN AGE.
I should first state the obvious, which is that I have accrued every bit of the following wisdom in airports and restaurants. You can learn everything you need to know about the human species in those two venues.
Number one: Never, under any circumstances, in any location, not even in the privacy of your own bedroom, CHEW GUM. I have stood hypnotized with repulsion many, many times watching a Woman of a C.A. apparently chewing off the inside of her mouth while waiting for her bag to roll around on the carousel, her flight to be called, the plane to take-off or land, her car to pull up or, worst of all, her meal to be served. Please, I beg you. Do the rest of us a favor. Once your age contains two digits, stop chewing gum.
Number two: No mini-skirts. If you are not Tina Turner, and you are over 40, just stop it. Your legs cannot be that good.
Number three: No midriff revelations. I don't care if you've never had children and your stomach is still as flat as when you were twenty, if you are twice that age or more, then I am sorry, it is forbidden. It is beyond undignified. If you are on the beach and you have a phenomenal figure, I will consider overlooking a two-piece bathing suit (NOT a bikini), but otherwise, keep it under wraps. Do I even need to MENTION piercings? Good god.
Number four: When you shoosh your crying/laughing/screaming child, your shoosh is always louder than the child. Talk to them, rock, cuddle, look stern, threaten, WHATEVER. Just don't SHHHOOOOOOOSSSSSH. That particular frequency is probably the reason I have a slight hearing loss right around 4K, NOT the snare drum that's been in my right ear for the past 26 years.
Number five: Do not put on makeup at a table in a restaurant. A quick, discreet swipe of lipstick in the manner of the French is perfectly acceptable, but do not powder, color, rub, outline, scrub, laser, polish, moisturize or tone any part of your face or body while in close proximity to food or strangers.
I once had the great misfortune of sitting at a table in a very nice restaurant in Hawaii with a dozen or so people, some of whom I did not know, and one young woman took out a bottle of aloe vera and proceeded to squirt it all over her sunburned legs and rub it in methodically while we were waiting for our food to be served. As an added bonus, the bottle made a nice, loud farting noise every time she squeezed it. Needless to say, I lost my appetite.
Number six: As an addendum to number five, just in case I'm not getting it across fully, don't comb or groom your hair in public. Just last week, I was standing next to a sixty-something woman in baggage claim who was fiercely dragging a comb through her dried-out, over-processed hair as stray strands flew all around her (and me). (Baggage claim is clearly the front burner which holds the melting pot of all humanity). Leave the comb in the purse until you are in the LADIES ROOM.
Number seven: Shorts. This article of apparel belongs in three places and three places only: the golf course, the tennis court, and the gym. If you wear shorts in any public place outside of this Triumvirate of Shorts, you need to be put in time-out. With the other short-pants-wearing children.
Number eight: Do I even need to tell you that Women of a C.A. should not wear tight jeans that ride six inches below your belly button? Please, ladies. Loosen your pants, just slightly, and pull them up. If we don't give the girls an example, who will?
Number nine: It's time to stop obsessing about your weight. It's okay for the first four decades, but aren't you EXHAUSTED? Just let it go, for the love of God. You are what you are. If you want to lose ten pounds, lose them. If you can't, or it requires too much work, forget it. Don't talk about your weight, don't compare yourself, don't spend ONE MINUTE wishing you were a size 8 instead of a 10, or a 4 instead of a 6, or a 16 instead of an 18. It is the most incredibly boring topic of conversation in the entire universe. There is nothing more unattractive than a Woman of a C.A. who doesn't accept herself.
Love yourself and everyone else will love you, too.
Number ten: This goes under the category of the painfully obvious, but, ladies, please don't get drunk in public.
Restaurants, night clubs, bars, parties both private and non-, and any place outside of your own home qualify as 'public'. Someone will notice, you'll say something you regret the next day, you'll compromise your dignity, and it's just not worth it. If you need to tie one on, put the kids to bed and have a few with your husband, not the neighborhood, band, crew, audience or office.
Okay, I haven't said anything about iridescent blue eyeshadow or the lack of a bra and tank tops, but you get the big picture. You've lived a long time. Hopefully, you paid attention. Everything you learned in your twenties and thirties you have the ability, nay, the OBLIGATION to use. So use it. Don't mimic young girls. How will they know how to behave when they're our age, if WE act like THEM? You're amazing. You know a lot. You've been hurt, you've recovered. Embody all that you've learned. Wear a bra. Show some cleavage, get some real jewelry, don't fuss with your hair or talk about your weight. See you in baggage claim.
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
