Polka-dots are happy little spots that make any garment and its wearer look cheerful and carefree. They come in many different sizes and colors; yet regardless, they always seem to dance with every move you make – remember the dress you had which was covered with big dots and made your waist look so small?
Polka-dots have a long history – in 1926 Miss America was photographed in a poker-dot swimsuit. After the second World War many of Christian Dior’s New Look designs were bedecked with dots. In 1951 Marilyn Monroe was seen in a polka-dot bikini and in 1960 Brian Hyland’s hit song Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini made us dance seeing dots.
They have never left the fashion scene totally. But this year’s spring fashion has embraced dots in a big way. What? Your waist is not as small as it used to be? Don’t worry! These happy little spots will dance with you as readily now as they did ….. when? No, don’t say how long ago, remember your age is nobody’s business but yours. Let’s just say, as they did when you were dancing to Brian Hyland’s tune.
As an Indie author I have a rule – I must to sell a book a day – to whom? Anybody who will buy. I recently got a note from our doorman who had bought a book for his mother. He sent me the following message – Thank you so much for the book! My mother is enjoying it a lot since it fits her personality! Wish you great success!
Of course I would rather sell more books a day, and often I do, but these little encouragements are kicks carrying me forward, forward to bigger things to come.
Visiting my bank yesterday a lady came up to Michelle’s desk, the bank clerk who took care of me and said, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to wish you a Happy Easter.”
While we chit chatted I looked at the lady. She was about sixty, of medium height. She wore a bulky sweater which, even for her not slim silhouette, was much too large, and a pair of jeans with more rips and holes than was flattering for her legs.
I don’t know if she didn’t feel comfortable in her jeans, or if she had noticed me looking at her, but she suddenly said, ” I’m going out to buy some clothes now” and before I could stop myself I said laughingly, “You might need some.”
No, she wasn’t offended, she was a good sport and pointing to her jeans explained, “I just wanted to be a fashionista.”
And getting out my book Getting Over Growing Older I made another sale.
Many women don’t include colors in their wardrobe because for them there is only black. Of course, black is always in fashion and I think another reason for its popularity is that you never have to think what goes with what – black always goes with black.
But it isn’t flattering all the time; for example when you are tired it can make your skin look sallow and when you are older it isn’t a help either. You need bright colors to enhance your complexion and to brighten up your face.
My friend Jane is a case in point. She doesn’t know the word black or brown. She only wears bright, vivid colors – alone or together – and the effect of joy take years off her face and persona. You are curious how she does it – well here is Jane!
The next time you look at a red dress and think it’s not for me – look again and try it on. You might see a new you! A younger you! A happier you like Jane!
I can never resist anything to do with Cowboys or the Wild West. It’s what I love most about this country. And the designer who has captured the look best is Ralph Lauren. Therefore, I never miss to check out one of his stores who carries cowboy boots and fringed leather jackets; the one on Fifth Avenue is now exception. Walking in I fell in love with a beautifully beige leather jacket with all the bells and whistles – fringes, appliques, hand embroidered, colorful Indian inspired motives – and the leather was as soft and pliable as velvet.
“How much is this please? I asked the young sales attendant who was approaching me. She took it off the rack and bringing it closer she said, “It’s $1,950.”
“That’s a lot of money” I replied “but it’s something one will have for ever.”
“For sure” she answered and looking at me she continued, “and you can even pass it on.” I was confused. Pass it on to whom, or why? Did I really look like I was ready to pass it on? Or was her remark an extra sales pitch? Or was I just too sensitive?
Yes, there is a chapter in my book (chapter 23) where I talk about passing things on – how clearing the air can help you have a better wardrobe, and how the things you don’t wear anymore can be a great help to somebody in need, but why should you think of it when buying something new – after all you will be wearing it for may years to come! Maybe Ralph Lauren should retrain his sales staff?
A little more than a week go my new book Getting Over Growing Older was published and I thought it was time to visit a book store and offer it to them. I followed the general advice to start with a book store in your neighborhood. I went to Book Culture on a 112th Street, in New York.
“Excuse me, is your buyer in?” I asked the young, very young man behind the counter. “No, he is out, what’s this about?” I showed him the book, which I knew was a mistake the minute I had taken it out of my bag. He took one look at the title, then at me and with question marks popping out of his eyes he replied, “This is not what we usually carry.”
Taking it back, I asked, “What is the name of your buyer please?” “Theo” he replied.
And hour later I went to see Theo who had returned. Looking the book over he said, “Are you from the neighborhood?”
“Yes, I am.” I replied and then I heard what was like music to my ears, “I’ll take a few copies on consignment.”
Consignment or purchasing -peut importe – even getting one toe in the door of a bookstore is a good beginning and a certainly a step in the right direction.
Thought of the day – It is good to be in love at any age!
“Look at them they are wearing bedspreads” the man standing in front of me on the escalator said excitedly, while he was pointing to the two young girls in front of us.
“Bedspreads? Really? Well he was not so wrong some of the outfits could have passed as bedspreads. When we reached the top he stopped me and said in an even louder tone, “Don’t you see those are not dresses to go to a concert in – that’s not what women wore when I was young.” (This was at the David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center in New York a week ago))
“Well times have changed, it’s not the same anymore” I said while trying to go to my seat, but he followed me and continued, “And the worst is, everyone is in black, and often not wearing any make-up they look like they are already dead!”
Visibly upset he walked away still shaking his head and mumbling to himself. I guessed he was in his late 60s, dressed in a dark suit and tie.
I hoped for him that he would calm down, because if he didn’t and continued to be obsessed by the past – he would allow the past to spoil a beautiful concert.
Change is constant and if we don’t go with we will get irreversibly stuck.