We've been invited to a huge social event, and we'll be sitting at a table with the president of the company and his wife. I am hoping this doesn't go down the same as Little black dress. That was the party where we ended up at a table by ourselves, and I was wondering when the pig blood was going to drop.
I am feeling more confident these days. Embracing my silver hair and dressing with style has made me feel more comfortable in my skin. Not so worried about presenting myself socially anymore. I view this is an opportunity to showcase cool gray hair on the big stage!
Emergency call to Stylish Young Coworker. She was on it like Johnny Mission. I couldn't believe how fast she operates. Reconnaissance on what people wore last year. What the president's wife wore. Links to outfits she thinks would look good. She even did a drive-by at Banana Republic to see what was in stock. All within 24 hours.
The dress we both liked was at Neiman's online, but I dilly dallied, and by the time I made up my mind to get it, it was gone. SYC was not amused. Her last words to me were said through gritted teeth before heading out for the weekend, "I hope you're going shopping. The party is next week."
Yeah, yeah. I just haven't been in the mood. I think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. It has been gloomy, wet and cold. I am grumpy and want to hang out in my jammies. In my case, it should be called Seasonal Asshole Disorder.
I had yesterday off, so I finally got up and out of the house to go shopping. I will say the lights at the mall are very bright, which is good for my SAD. Wish I'd realized this sooner. No wonder they call it retail therapy! Here I am in the fitting room, snapping shots of different dresses with my iphone and emailing them to SYC for instant feedback.
She said the first one was just OK, but she loved the white. Later, she loved the dark blue wrap dress, which she said would look fab with the right jewelry. Later she said, let's talk. What is the cost per wear of each dress? If you only wear the white once a year and it's mega-pricey, screw it. The wrap is class. For the record, she said, my fav is white, but you need to consider CPW.
By this time, I've abandoned the white dress and am trying on stuff from the sale rack at Macy's. I'm about to buy a brown dress with little rows of nylon fringe all over it for $59, when I get a new email from SYC. She is at the hair salon, and it just so happens we share the same stylist. Sometimes this is too cozy for comfort.
Paige says get the white dress. Screw the CPW.
There you have it. SYC and my hairdresser agree. Who am I to argue? I buy the white dress. Now we are arguing over shoes.
Ruth Flowers hangs out in Europe's most famous nightclubs. That might seem odd for a 69-year-old grandmother from Bristol, England, but it comes with the territory when you are the DJ. On the dance floor, she is better known as Mamy Rock.
The story of Mamy Rock is legendary. She was widowed, and it was her grandson's birthday. He took her to a discotheque, where they almost didn't let her in because she was too old. But once through the doors, the music and dancing lit her soul. She said to herself, this is what I want to do with my life.
So she did it.
With her spiky silver hair and stylish bling, Ruth is rock star cool. But her spirit is what I see shining through. Ruth looks like she is having the time of her life! What I also see is more evidence that the party is not over.
Who knows what you will be when you grow up?
(c) SPOA / Orel Simon - Photos by Marjorie Curty
(c) SPOA / Orel Simon - Photos by Marjorie Curty
I am not nearly as active as I think I am.
All steps are equal -- it doesn't matter whether I am trekking in from the parking lot at work or sweating it out on the treadmill. For me, it's beginning to look like a work day without additional exercise yields in the 3,000 range. Here is a sample of this week's add-ons:
Wednesday: 20 minutes running, 20 minutes weights.
Thursday: 30 minutes walking.
Friday: Eating bon bons at my desk.
Saturday: 1 hour walking.
Seemed like I was doing pretty well until I saw the bar chart. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services recommends 10,000 steps per day. I haven't even reached the minimum! I am serious about being fit as I age, and it looks to me that I need to make some changes. Weekends aren't a problem, but it's going to be tough to get that in during the week. That pesky job thing. Sometimes even bathroom breaks are a challenge.
Are you in the 10,000 range? Is this realistic? How do you do it?
Young fashion models have recently started sprouting chemically induced gray hair and highlights. I've been watching the scene for awhile, wondering if it was worth writing about. Most of the dos I've seen look comical. What's the point?
It seems to me some supermodels will do about anything, and gray hair is just a new chemically induced thing, if you get my drift. I don't think it's going to make the world safe for those who are going gray the old-fashioned way. But ...
I think it's kind of cool! And maybe it in some way legitimizes gray hair. I really like how Kate Moss added silver. She looks like a blonde growing out her roots. I told you silver roots were cool! There are better close-ups of Kate's hair here. My second choice is Pixie Geldof except for the makeup.
Kate Moss
Pixie Geldof
I finally bought leggings, but mine are more like jeans, so I named them jeggings. They are a heavy knit with jean-like pockets in the front and back. Zipper and tab front. Banana Republic. Here they are with my over-the-knee boots for the world to see. Just to prove that you can be over 50 with silver hair and still wear cool stuff.
You can see quite clearly that I have hips and thighs. I actually wore my jeggings earlier this week with a long sweater and flowy top in a futile attempt to disguise my curves. I thought it would be more tasteful at an evening function in a business casual setting. I looked like a shapeless black blob.
I like this look a lot. Could I do better? Probably, but it will take some trial and error. I know now the shorter top and jacket is a better proportion for me ... even with my heavier bottom half exposed. Moral of the story is to experiment. Don't be afraid of wearing clothes that skim or hug the body. Attempting to hide it makes everything worse.
Curves need love, too.
I hit rock bottom this week and advised a colleague not to go gray. Here's what happened.
Several of us were traveling together back to Texas after a conference in the Washington, D.C. area. We got through security and had some time to kill, so we stopped at a restaurant for a glass of wine. I was counting the number of women with gray hair. Stylish Young Coworker was with us, and she was my scout.
SYC: Silver at 3 o'clock!
Me: Hate it.
SYC: The color is pretty.
Me: Haircut blows.
SYC: Silver incoming!
And so it went. Traveling companion #1 is in her mid-50s. She said she would like to go natural and embrace silver hair but has no style and thought it was better to keep the color. And I agreed! I said it's a package deal. If you aren't going to commit yourself to developing a cool style, stick with the dye. It's actually the low-maintenance solution for people who aren't into fashion.
Then we got to the style question. Why don't you care about style? Well, she said, my feet are big and narrow. It's hard to find cute shoes. SYC and I are all over that one. We'll help you find shoes. A flight attendant passed by and I said, OK, over there ... that look is fine for them, it's their uniform. This is not the look you are going for.
It's not?
This is bad. SYC asks if she has a flight attendant outfit in her wardrobe. Tell us, she demands, do you wear suits like that to work? Do you?
My good suit, she says, with a quiver in her voice.
What color?
Navy.
What color shoes?
Navy.
AHHHHHHHHH!
Then we get to the nude hose debate. As far as I am concerned, there is never a reason to wear nude hose. Ever. SYC calls them sausage casings. Nude fishnets are nice, I offer. Tights. Bare legs. Traveling companion #2 says her legs are too white for bare legs. Pale is nice, we tell her. You don't need fake tanned legs.
I can't believe I am dishing this advice. Just a few years ago, I would have thought the flight attendant look was acceptable. In a moment of weakness, I thank the vigilantly critical SYC for mentoring me through my style journey. If not for the grace of SYC, I would be the gray-haired woman in the navy blue suit with nude hose and sensible loafers.
They announced our flight, and we all looked at our boarding passes to see which zone we were in. I couldn't find my zone. SYC looked at my boarding pass and said, "You got upgraded to first class!" I think I screamed. Several people looked up. Oh my God! Oh my God! I felt like I had won the lottery. And they were boarding first class already! Like right now!
Bye!
SYC was among the last to board. I was lounging in my comfy and spacious first-class seat as she passed by struggling with her over-sized carry on. Some people just don't listen. I did the beauty queen wave, and she stopped in the aisle across from my seat. Looked me straight in the eye and said without explanation or fanfare, "I hope there's a fly in your salad."
Happy birthday to silver-haired fox Paula Deen, who turns 63 today. Look at her just a few years ago. Her TV show was just starting out. The hair was gray but in transition to the beautiful silver-white she enjoys today. In my opinion, older is better! I'm sure the Food TV folks help with hair, makeup and clothes, but she has to be the one to wear it, and wow ... she wears it well!
My favorite Paula Deen recipe is Lemon Blossoms. Even better when you double dip them in the glaze. Oh, yum.
I can be a bit of a hypochondriac. Even as a child, I studied the encyclopedia for diseases I might have. I was sure I had diabetes and pretty sure I would one day get multiple sclerosis. Don't ask me why. It's just easy for me to imagine that a routine ache or pain is something much, much worse. One time I went to the doctor with a bunch of silly complaints, and it turned out to be cancer! It's like the old joke about the tombstone that said, "See? I told you I was sick!"
As soon as it occurred to me that my hair wasn't growing fast enough, I initiated an IDQ. That stands for Internet Disease Quest. Hypothyroidism, vitamin deficiencies, menopause, botulism. I mentioned the problem to my sister, exclaiming that even the hair on my legs doesn't grow like it used to. All she said was, "Wait. There's more." A general thinning out of hairy places, as it were. I know. TMI.
Nothing disease-wise was ringing true, so I started researching average hair growth. It turns out hair typically grows about 1/2 inch per month or about six inches per year. Unless you are Kate Gosselin. Then all it takes is a head full of extensions and a 20-hour makeover. Oh, and the useless ex-husband for inspiration. Priceless.
I looked up my post about last year's buzz cut. That was January 24. It has been about a year. Let's assume I started with about one to two inches of hair. I should have about six to seven inches of hair. I've had it trimmed about every six weeks, and we know how those stylists love scissors, so let's also assume I lost a little bit at the salon. It's kind of hard to hold a ruler and see how long the hair is, but it looks to me that I have ... hmmmm ... about six to seven inches of hair!
Miracle of miracles! My hair growth is right on target. The only thing slow is my brain. I am fine. Worried about that hair situation my sister mentioned. But really, it's time to just chill and be patient. To Martha, who is transitioning to gray hair, and to Michelle, who is growing out a short do, I send goodwill and patient vibes your way. Let's learn to enjoy the ride and not obsess over the destination.
We have plenty of time to get wherever we are going. And while I am on the subject, I would like to thank all my readers for patiently sticking by me as I have been writing about my journey on this blog. This was my 100th post! Who knew? I thought I had nothing to say, so I just went ahead and said it.
Baby, it's cold outside. Not everywhere, of course, but much of the U.S. is freezing right now. I am thankful I don't live in Bismark, North Dakota. Not that it isn't a lovely place after the thaw. Helps to be of sturdy stock. I'm from Southern California wuss stock. And a Texas transplant. Enough said.
I have all the right gear to go outside and play in the cold, but it's not a good look for me. My nose turns red and my skin looks like the bottom of the Red River after a drought. Thank you, God, for treadmills. I've been good about keeping up with my exercise during this cold spell. No excuses! I've also wasted quality time on the Wii. I'm not bragging or anything, but I am pro-level in both bowling and golf. I'm just saying.
The cold has even affected my cat, Bruno. He has a little screened-in area where he can be outside. He was meowing insanely to go out yesterday, so I opened the door, and he stuck his big old pumpkin head out for a nanosecond. He looked up at me like, WTF? He immediately retreated from the blast of cold air and went back to bed.
Which is a good place for him, because we got a 3,000-piece jigsaw puzzle for Christmas, and it has become painfully clear that we can only work on the puzzle while Bruno is sleeping. He wants to help with the puzzle (if he only had thumbs). We have the puzzle set up on the dining room table. The first day, he hopped up on a chair and very gingerly approached the table with his front paws. He popped up, without disturbing a single piece. Dramatic pause, then he started whipping his tail from side to side as puzzle pieces began to fly. He's not responsible for the tail. We puzzle under cover of daylight.
Winter style is not my passion. It's the wuss stock thing. Plus, I live in Texas, where I mostly dress for three seasons. Angie at You Look Fab listed her resolutions, and one of them was to shop for your dominant season. My dominant seasons are spring, summer and fall, so that's where I focus my fashion dollars. This winter I bought a gray cropped lightweight wool jacket that goes with all the pants and skirts I own, over-the-knee boots and a couple of scarves. So, I'm not much into shopping right now.
The scarves are miracle workers for making the same outfits look different. I wear the boots all the time, and I do not look like a hooker. In fact, they are so cool, I finally bought a pair of leggings long after I said I would just so that I can wear them tucked into the boots. I have no idea what I will wear on top. All I know is that I have boots, and I have leggings.
No one said having gray hair and looking cool was easy. I've got the silver, but I am still learning how to rock it.
