Lightness - For Women
Humor, Fluff,and Other Pleasantness (The Lighter and Brighter Side of Being a Woman)
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
A Note By This Blog Author
As I continue to overhaul much (most, actually) of the online-writing (blogs/accounts) that I've done on a casual/free-time basis, I'm finding that the last pages that seem to be getting my attention are blogs that I set up with a focus on a single subject/theme. This is one of those blogs.
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Notable Women
More Notable Women
NOTE:
To learn more about any of the women whose pictures appear here, click on photo.
Ida B. Wells
African American Rights
Marilyn Monroe
Actress (50's "Sex Goddess")
Georgia O'Keefe
Artist
Sojourner Truth (Isabella Baumfree)
Abolitionist and Women's Rights Activist
Clara Barton
Humanitarian
How to See a Rainbow
Rainbows result when sunlight is refracted as it shows through the droplets of moisture in the air. When only one rainbow can be seen the colors show up in the order most of us have learned as "colors of the rainbow" - red, orange, yellow, green, indigo, blue, violet. Two rainbows are sometimes seen, in which case there is the primary rainbow (the most vivid one with the "conventional" color order) and a secondary rainbow (a paler rainbow with the colors in reversed order).
Rainbows are seen immediately after fast-moving rain showers and before the clouds have completely disappeared from the sky. They show up best when a good part of the sky is still darkened by clouds, while a portion of it has cleared. The clearer the cleared portion of the sky is, the more likely it is a rainbow will appear.
Being able to see a rainbow requires having the sun directly behind the viewer.
Rainbows can also be seen around waterfalls because the spray creates the necessary moisture droplets in the air.
The angle of reflection between the sun, the drop of water, and your line of vision must be 40 to 42 degrees in order for you to be able to see the rainbow. How high or low the rainbow appears depends on whether the sun is high or low because this angle changes as the sun's appearance in the sky changes.
Note: Now that the science of rainbows has been explained, it is important to keep in mind that most of the time we cannot find a rainbow when we try to. Instead, rainbows just appear in the sky before us when we least expect them and may most need to see them.
The Rainbow – A Verse
When storm clouds gather, and
the chilling rain pours down;
and even the tallest and the strongest trees
stand, battered.
When it somehow seems,
there are only broken dreams;
and we're certain we have been
abandoned by the sun;
Then as suddenly as it has come
the rain stops and
out comes the sun,
watercolor ribbons are painted in the sky.
Perfect, painted ribbons in a perfect, painted, arch -
a gateway to the heavens,
a whisper to the soul.
A gift of hope,
wrapped in watercolor ribbons
in the sky.
A Somewhat, But Maybe Not All That ,Humorous Delivery Story
My son was born in the era of Mr. Rogers; and anyone familiar with the beloved Mr. Rogers is also familiar with his neighborhood postman, "Mr. McFeely (played by David Newell), who accompanied his drop-offs to Mr. Rogers with the catch phrase, "Speedy Delivery". Well, that is the story of my son's arrival into the world. Whenever I would hear Mr. McFeely call, "Speedy Delivery!", it would remind me of the little boy watching Mr. Rogers and waiting to see what Mr. McFeely had brought.
My son didn't just have a "speedy" arrival. He arrived six weeks before "estimated time of delivery". To further complicate the matter, he arrived upside down - unbeknownst to the doctor, who had announced, "Your baby is bald as an eagle," only to later see that my baby had lots of dark gold hair that stood on end (the way Charles Schultz's "Woodstock's" does). My 4 lb, 8 oz son also arrived with one fierce capacity to scream, but I digress from the delivery story:
It all began on a dreary Monday in November, when, for some reason I never knew, my husband just didn't go to work. He hadn't announced any need for taking a "mental health day". Instead, he just kind of sat at the breakfast table, talking to me, and not getting up to go to work. As late morning set in we began to discuss going out in the afternoon to buy the baby a car seat. We didn't think it was any emergency, but since he had taken the day off it seemed like a good day to go baby-store browsing. The plan was to head out in the afternoon, although we didn't actually leave until close to 5:00. Since I hadn't eaten anything that day (for some reason that I don't know, because I usually ate), we decided to stop at a little muffin and sandwich shop on the way to the baby store. Our five-year-old son would be coming along, so we thought it would be nice for the three of us to eat out together.
Since I wasn't in the mood to eat much (now I know why, but I didn't at that time), I ordered an egg sandwich on toast. I had just taken two bites (I remember that - two bites) when I was shocked to have my water break. I think it may be every expectant mother's fear that the water will break somewhere like a restaurant; and there I was, dealing with the restaurant chair and a soaked-through coat that left few options but to announce to the waitress what had happened. Wearing the coat, I didn't look very pregnant, which is why the waitress seemed to have trouble "getting" what I was trying to say discreetly. This meant, of course, that I had to follow my first explanation with a repeat explanation; and it wasn't until I said what had happened a few times that she really understood what my problem was. I guess the trouble with trying to be discreet is that the low voice we usually use with attempts at discretion is often not heard.
I awkwardly used a bunch of paper napkins to try to deal with the "problem", but then I was stuck with a bunch of amniotic-fluid napkins I didn't know what to do with. I don't recall what I did do with them (although, knowing me, I would not have handed them to the waitress - that much I know for sure). I do recall her saying, "That's ok. Don't worry about the chair." With that (and with much guilt for walking away from such a "disaster", we prepared to leave.
My five-year-old was as baffled and clueless as the waitress when I told him we had to leave. Again, I tried to be discreet. Again, I had to just say it good and loud and clear, because he was confused and questioning about why we had to leave so soon. When I said, "I'm having the baby" my otherwise intelligent five-year-old finally "got it". He suddenly seemed as knowing and on-the-ball as someone thirty years old, as he exclaimed, "Oh," and grabbed his coat. My husband swooped up our son in his arms, as we headed quickly through the expansive parking lot to the car. Since I'm someone who often finds one reason or another to wipe off restaurant seats and tables with napkins, I suppose my son didn't think much of it. Besides, although he knew I would be having "a little brother" (because he "knew" the baby would be a boy), I had intentionally neglected to tell him some of the gory details of childbirth.
We returned home. I called the doctor, who said, "See what happens, and if nothing happens overnight come in to the office tomorrow." I got my son's clothes and toys together, so he could stay with my mother for the night. I waited through the night, and nothing happened. The next day when I called the doctor's office I was told to come in after noon. Well, by this time, I was starting to realize that "this labor thing" was pretty much a long, drawn-out, affair; so I decided to get a few things done before heading off to the doctor's office.
We needed to get our mail from the Post Office, so I asked my husband to stop along the way to the doctor's office. I waited in the car. It was a small Post Office and parking lot, and we had to wait for quite a while after my husband returned to the car, because someone had parked in a non-space and blocked our car. Although I did have the urge to mention to this selfish individual that I was probably on my way to have a baby, I wasn't really too worried. For me, the "big event" had been the water breaking at the restaurant. After that, "this labor thing" was pretty uneventful and boring.
When the doctor told me to go to the hospital he also said to stop and tell his nurse what was going on. I waited my turn to talk to her, and when I tried to tell her to let the hospital know I was going there the nurse was as clueless as the Mug-N-Muffin waitress AND my five-year-old had been. I had to repeat to the clueless and confused nurse that I was going to have the baby. After she kind of "got it" she pulled open my coat in disbelief. Even after "getting it", she was incredulous as she said, "Oh, you don't look like you're ready to have the baby." Was I the only one who could figure out that I was having a baby? This whole thing was "so not like" the way things go on television. There wasn't a shred of urgency in anyone, and even I was kind of bored with the whole thing by this time.
We got to the admitting area at that hospital. I was, however, pretty hungry because I hadn't eaten, at that point, for two days. As my husband and I waited to talk to someone I kept saying how I'd like to get a cup of tea before being admitted. When we finally talked to the woman and asked about "maybe first getting a cup of tea" all of sudden, and for the first time, I saw a sense of urgency. The woman said emphatically, "I think you had better go right upstairs." (I thought, "Rats - no tea.")
Well, I can't make this long labor story shorter at this point, but take heart - the delivery story can be told in a few lines. It was about 3:30 when I got the labor area and about 3:45 when I saw my own childbirth class (for which I'd only attended the first session) come parading through on its tour of the labor area. Sitting comfortably and bored on the edge of the bed, I pulled the curtain in order to keep my classmates from seeing me.
Finally, at 4:00 I felt something that actually felt like labor. Finally, I knew it was real. Between 4:00 and 4:15 I had "cramps", but I'd had worse in my life. At 4:15 the pain was getting nasty. Since I'd read that first deliveries (my first son is adopted) can take hours and hours, I calmly commented to my husband, "This is pretty bad. I can't really picture having this for - like - 10 hours." At 4:45 a nurse told me that I had been in transition and was ready to push.
All of a sudden, that sense of urgency I hadn't noticed in anyone started to show up - and show up "big" - in everyone anywhere near me. My husband was instructed to hurry up and get his gown and hat on. People were looking around, asking where the doctor was and if anyone had seen him. My husband disappeared. Nurses seemed to be running around. Someone started pushing me through the hall at high speed. It was as if - all of a sudden - everyone finally "got it" that I was having a baby!
People were moving fast and talking loud and asking about who was where. Where was the doctor? Where was my husband? "This baby is coming now!" seemed to be the general consensus. The doctor came bursting through the door first. Soon after my husband came bursting through the door. Within minutes (and a very few minutes at that), my upside-down, screaming, baby boy was born at exactly 5:00. Everyone who was supposed to be there had gotten there just in time. There was lots of talk about how close it had all been, and about how fast it had all happened. People were happily re-hashing what they knew was happening when, and who wasn't there. There was teasing of the doctor, who had announced that my breech baby was "bald as an eagle" (plenty of teasing).
As for me, I had learned that labor and delivery aren't always the way the books say they'll be. I had also learned never to skip eating on any day that falls within six weeks of delivery. One important thing I learned is that a restaurant chair full of amniotic fluid actually DOES mean that a real, live, baby is soon to follow. (Until I actually held my tiny and long-lashed little son I don't think I "got it" any more than some of those other people.)
Oh - and one more lesson: I learned to never stop at the Post Office on the way to having a baby. One never knows when one will be happily surprised with "Speedy Delivery!"
My son didn't just have a "speedy" arrival. He arrived six weeks before "estimated time of delivery". To further complicate the matter, he arrived upside down - unbeknownst to the doctor, who had announced, "Your baby is bald as an eagle," only to later see that my baby had lots of dark gold hair that stood on end (the way Charles Schultz's "Woodstock's" does). My 4 lb, 8 oz son also arrived with one fierce capacity to scream, but I digress from the delivery story:
It all began on a dreary Monday in November, when, for some reason I never knew, my husband just didn't go to work. He hadn't announced any need for taking a "mental health day". Instead, he just kind of sat at the breakfast table, talking to me, and not getting up to go to work. As late morning set in we began to discuss going out in the afternoon to buy the baby a car seat. We didn't think it was any emergency, but since he had taken the day off it seemed like a good day to go baby-store browsing. The plan was to head out in the afternoon, although we didn't actually leave until close to 5:00. Since I hadn't eaten anything that day (for some reason that I don't know, because I usually ate), we decided to stop at a little muffin and sandwich shop on the way to the baby store. Our five-year-old son would be coming along, so we thought it would be nice for the three of us to eat out together.
Since I wasn't in the mood to eat much (now I know why, but I didn't at that time), I ordered an egg sandwich on toast. I had just taken two bites (I remember that - two bites) when I was shocked to have my water break. I think it may be every expectant mother's fear that the water will break somewhere like a restaurant; and there I was, dealing with the restaurant chair and a soaked-through coat that left few options but to announce to the waitress what had happened. Wearing the coat, I didn't look very pregnant, which is why the waitress seemed to have trouble "getting" what I was trying to say discreetly. This meant, of course, that I had to follow my first explanation with a repeat explanation; and it wasn't until I said what had happened a few times that she really understood what my problem was. I guess the trouble with trying to be discreet is that the low voice we usually use with attempts at discretion is often not heard.
I awkwardly used a bunch of paper napkins to try to deal with the "problem", but then I was stuck with a bunch of amniotic-fluid napkins I didn't know what to do with. I don't recall what I did do with them (although, knowing me, I would not have handed them to the waitress - that much I know for sure). I do recall her saying, "That's ok. Don't worry about the chair." With that (and with much guilt for walking away from such a "disaster", we prepared to leave.
My five-year-old was as baffled and clueless as the waitress when I told him we had to leave. Again, I tried to be discreet. Again, I had to just say it good and loud and clear, because he was confused and questioning about why we had to leave so soon. When I said, "I'm having the baby" my otherwise intelligent five-year-old finally "got it". He suddenly seemed as knowing and on-the-ball as someone thirty years old, as he exclaimed, "Oh," and grabbed his coat. My husband swooped up our son in his arms, as we headed quickly through the expansive parking lot to the car. Since I'm someone who often finds one reason or another to wipe off restaurant seats and tables with napkins, I suppose my son didn't think much of it. Besides, although he knew I would be having "a little brother" (because he "knew" the baby would be a boy), I had intentionally neglected to tell him some of the gory details of childbirth.
We returned home. I called the doctor, who said, "See what happens, and if nothing happens overnight come in to the office tomorrow." I got my son's clothes and toys together, so he could stay with my mother for the night. I waited through the night, and nothing happened. The next day when I called the doctor's office I was told to come in after noon. Well, by this time, I was starting to realize that "this labor thing" was pretty much a long, drawn-out, affair; so I decided to get a few things done before heading off to the doctor's office.
We needed to get our mail from the Post Office, so I asked my husband to stop along the way to the doctor's office. I waited in the car. It was a small Post Office and parking lot, and we had to wait for quite a while after my husband returned to the car, because someone had parked in a non-space and blocked our car. Although I did have the urge to mention to this selfish individual that I was probably on my way to have a baby, I wasn't really too worried. For me, the "big event" had been the water breaking at the restaurant. After that, "this labor thing" was pretty uneventful and boring.
When the doctor told me to go to the hospital he also said to stop and tell his nurse what was going on. I waited my turn to talk to her, and when I tried to tell her to let the hospital know I was going there the nurse was as clueless as the Mug-N-Muffin waitress AND my five-year-old had been. I had to repeat to the clueless and confused nurse that I was going to have the baby. After she kind of "got it" she pulled open my coat in disbelief. Even after "getting it", she was incredulous as she said, "Oh, you don't look like you're ready to have the baby." Was I the only one who could figure out that I was having a baby? This whole thing was "so not like" the way things go on television. There wasn't a shred of urgency in anyone, and even I was kind of bored with the whole thing by this time.
We got to the admitting area at that hospital. I was, however, pretty hungry because I hadn't eaten, at that point, for two days. As my husband and I waited to talk to someone I kept saying how I'd like to get a cup of tea before being admitted. When we finally talked to the woman and asked about "maybe first getting a cup of tea" all of sudden, and for the first time, I saw a sense of urgency. The woman said emphatically, "I think you had better go right upstairs." (I thought, "Rats - no tea.")
Well, I can't make this long labor story shorter at this point, but take heart - the delivery story can be told in a few lines. It was about 3:30 when I got the labor area and about 3:45 when I saw my own childbirth class (for which I'd only attended the first session) come parading through on its tour of the labor area. Sitting comfortably and bored on the edge of the bed, I pulled the curtain in order to keep my classmates from seeing me.
Finally, at 4:00 I felt something that actually felt like labor. Finally, I knew it was real. Between 4:00 and 4:15 I had "cramps", but I'd had worse in my life. At 4:15 the pain was getting nasty. Since I'd read that first deliveries (my first son is adopted) can take hours and hours, I calmly commented to my husband, "This is pretty bad. I can't really picture having this for - like - 10 hours." At 4:45 a nurse told me that I had been in transition and was ready to push.
All of a sudden, that sense of urgency I hadn't noticed in anyone started to show up - and show up "big" - in everyone anywhere near me. My husband was instructed to hurry up and get his gown and hat on. People were looking around, asking where the doctor was and if anyone had seen him. My husband disappeared. Nurses seemed to be running around. Someone started pushing me through the hall at high speed. It was as if - all of a sudden - everyone finally "got it" that I was having a baby!
People were moving fast and talking loud and asking about who was where. Where was the doctor? Where was my husband? "This baby is coming now!" seemed to be the general consensus. The doctor came bursting through the door first. Soon after my husband came bursting through the door. Within minutes (and a very few minutes at that), my upside-down, screaming, baby boy was born at exactly 5:00. Everyone who was supposed to be there had gotten there just in time. There was lots of talk about how close it had all been, and about how fast it had all happened. People were happily re-hashing what they knew was happening when, and who wasn't there. There was teasing of the doctor, who had announced that my breech baby was "bald as an eagle" (plenty of teasing).
As for me, I had learned that labor and delivery aren't always the way the books say they'll be. I had also learned never to skip eating on any day that falls within six weeks of delivery. One important thing I learned is that a restaurant chair full of amniotic fluid actually DOES mean that a real, live, baby is soon to follow. (Until I actually held my tiny and long-lashed little son I don't think I "got it" any more than some of those other people.)
Oh - and one more lesson: I learned to never stop at the Post Office on the way to having a baby. One never knows when one will be happily surprised with "Speedy Delivery!"
Top 10 Foods - By Someone Who Doesn't Really Like Food
Food can be a challenge for me, because I like beverages more than I like food. Coffees, teas, fruit and vegetable juices are my thing - complete with their caffeine, sugars, and sodium. I do, however, have my ten "select" choices of foods; and it is with some shame that I present my top ten favorite foods (only two of which would make the "Healthiest Eating" list). Please keep in mind that I do not indulge in Numbers 2, 7, 8, or 9 more than a few times a year (oh, ok, so I pick up a handful of Number 9's on 8 out of 10 grocery trips).
1. Crackers - but not just any crackers (although I'm pretty happy with any-old-crackers too). Cheese crackers are my absolute favorites.
2. Dip - any dip and all dip, except any dip that involves meat, poultry, or fish. Herb dip, cheese dip, and sour-cream dips are good. Dips for chips are good, but not as good as dips for vegetables. The King of Dips, however, is the dip that goes with - you guessed it - crackers!
3. Cheese and Artificial Cheese Flavoring - Sharp cheddar sliced so thin you can see through, melted Swiss, and unmelted Swiss, sliced so thin you can see through the non-hole parts of it, are my favorites. Melted mozzarella is evil but on my list in a big way. I hate to say it, but all artificial cheese flavoring, especially the powdery kind, is on my list. (Do I get to list cheese crackers again here?)
4. Scrambled Eggs - real or fake, it doesn't matter. Scrambled with or without milk, with or without vegetables, and with or without margarine, butter, or any other cholesterol enhancement - none of it matters. Served alone or on some version of a bread-like product - it doesn't matter. Microwaved? Not so much (although Burger King does a good job of microwaving eggs; they might like to think about serving fake bacon - but I digress).
5. Grapes - any grapes, although I really don't want to be bothered with seeds. Green grapes are, I guess, my favorites. Green grapes make a good lunch when served with purple grapes as dessert.
6. Clementines - yum, yum, yum. Clementines have that light, watery, kind of taste that green grapes have (even though the taste is different, of course). They have tons of Vitamin C. Most important of all, they don't make your hands all stick the way oranges do. (Oranges are on my "Don't Ever Eat Unless in the Form of Juice" list.)
Items 7 through 10 are items I think of as, "The Light-Brown, Candy-Related, Sisters":
7. Caramel - in all its forms. Caramel candy alone, caramel wrapped in chocolate (dark chocolate is better), caramel sauce with apples in it (baked on or just dipped in), and caramel swirled through ice cream (provided the percentage of caramel is high enough; otherwise, I don't want to bother).
8. Butterscotch - better than caramel and with so many more ways to eat it. Butterscotch pudding (the best), butterscotch candy, butterscotch sauce over anything (particularly vanilla ice cream), and butterscotch candies in ice cream. Butterscotch cookies and bars are good, but they're not as good as butterscotch sauce (for the hard-core butterscotch addict). The most important of butterscotch treats, butterscotch ice cream with butterscotch candy bits in it and butterscotch syrup dumped over it (whipped cream is a nice touch too).
9. Molasses - in candy, although I'm considering buying a jar one day. I've heard that a jar of molasses and molasses in candy are two different things, but one of these days I'm going to buy a jar and see how creative I can be. I've looked at jars of molasses when I shop for years, but they scare me. The best molasses candy: Mary Jane miniatures - more yummy than clementines, not as yummy as butterscotch.
10. V8 Vegetable Juice - the high-sodium kind, not the low-sodium kind. I don't say, "I could have had a V8." I say, "Hook up the IV, and fill the bag with V8!"
How does one properly wrap up a list of top ten foods? What clever summation would make such a list complete? I suppose all I can think of is to borrow from my Number 6 entry and say, "yum, yum, yum" (and more yum). Even the food-challenged among us can find some "yum" in life.
Building A Nice Wardrobe On A Tight Budget
Building a nice wardrobe on a small budget requires flexibility and planning. Flexibility with regard to where you shop gives you a broader selection from which to choose. Planning helps you know which items to choose when you're browsing that broader selection.
Flexibility comes in when it comes to where you shop. Shopping at the best stores doesn't always have to be completely ruled out, but being willing to shop at discount stores, outlets, thrift shops, and online offer the best way to stay within your budget. Don't forget to look through catalogs that arrive in your home mail box. They have clearance sales too.
Although you may want to select two or three particularly good pieces at one of the better stores, in general, sale shopping and clearance shopping at these stores are really the only way to stick to a budget.
Outlet stores and those that offer "designer clothes for less" are one way to get nicer wardrobe pieces at substantially reduced prices. Slightly irregular items, and items from "last season" often offer nice pieces that are neither obviously irregular nor obviously "last season". If you don't mind the idea of buying second-hand clothing (and many people do) browse thrift shops for drastically inexpensive but nice pieces. Browsing online for great deals, as well as looking through those catalogs will turn up sales and special deals you would never have otherwise found.
Discount stores can offer a way to pay as little as possible for the most basic items that don't play a major role in the particular outfit but instead go under or with it.
Discount stores are great places for reasonably priced underwear, slips, nylons, and socks. These stores also often sell brand name accessories (for example, Isotoner gloves and umbrellas) at a reasonable price. Buying the items that don't matter as much and finding brand items for less means you'll only need to spend more on main clothing items. Once in a while you may even find a basic black skirt or basic top on clearance racks at these stores as well.
Since you aren't shopping on a "money-is-no-object" basis, planning the purchase of those main items will help you stick to your budget. You'll get more mileage out of items you can mix and match, of course. Classic pieces will last for years, so you won't need to be buying yet another black jacket next year. Get by on as few pairs of pants and skirts as you can because more tops offer more versatility, whether those tops are shirts, sweaters, or jackets.
If you only wear the best quality shoes choose a versatile pair of dress and a versatile pair of casual, and buy a bag that works with both. If you're not above inexpensive shoes you can buy more variety. Ideally, having black accessories, as well as brown accessories, works best for flexibility. When it comes to jewelry, as with shoes, have one or two really nice but basic pieces is one way to go. Buying inexpensive costume jewelry is another option. Having a couple of basic silver pieces and a couple of basic gold pieces offers the most flexibility when you're mixing and matching those main wardrobe pieces.
Finally, taking good care of your clothes adds longevity. Try to stay away from as many dry-clean-only items as possible, but sometimes that isn't possible. Keep in mind, though, that washing some dry-clean-only items on the gentle cycle in cold water, re-shaping, and allowing to air dry can help save on dry-cleaning bills.
Is the Fashion Industry to Blame for Young Women’s Body Image Issues?
If young girls are not being given the right messages about their own appearance it is parents - not the fashion industry - who are responsible. It is the responsibility of parents - not the fashion industry - to learn how to help their daughters have some understanding of their own potential, as well as their ability to enhance or improve their appearance in a healthy way.
If there was ever a young girl who admired the models in Seventeen, Teen, Glamour, and Mademoiselle magazines it was I. As young as thirteen and fourteen I began reading Teen and Seventeen and looking for ideas about fashion style. At the time I believed I needed some guidance because I actually looked about eleven years old, and I realized that the right clothes and make-up could help me look a little more like the thirteen I was. When I was in my later teen years I graduated to Glamour and Mademoiselle. They had articles, and I was looking for reading, as well as pictures.
As I browsed the pages of magazines and studied the make-up approaches and outfits, I was more than aware that I could not look exactly like the models. I was more than aware that they were super-tall and super-thin, while I was - at that time - about five feet tall with size five feet and thighs that didn't look like the model's thighs. It wasn't difficult for me to figure out that certain bikinis weren't for me, but I was able to get an idea of "looks" that would work for me. It was the same with make-up. I would skip the pages that had darker skinner, darker-haired, models and instead head for the pages with models with hair and skin in tones similar to mine. I was absolutely at peace with the idea that a small-framed girl with my not-very-photogenic features would never be a model, but to this day I credit all that magazine-browsing for the fact that I grew up to know how to make the most of my own lot in the life of looks.
While I had great parents who apparently managed to raise a daughter with reasonably good sense, it was through the pages of those magazines (and not from the advice of my World War II generation mother) that I learned ways to make the most of my brown-but-shiny hair. Magazines showed me how to make my pale eyes look great or how to use apply make-up in dusty mauves and pale grays to make me look best in a black dress. I loved those magazines back then, and I had a healthy admiration for the tall, super-slender, models who made fashion and make-up so appealing. I admired the appearance of those models, but I knew the difference between the pages of a fashion magazine and real life. I knew, too, that when it really came down to it I would never want to be so tall I'd tower over most other women. Most importantly, I had a solid perspective on the place that appearance has in life as opposed to the importance of who people are on the inside.
Once I learned what I needed to learn about making the most of my appearance I moved on - grew up. Even today, though, I admire a local news anchor each evening because she's tall and narrow, and her clothes look so great on her. Today, too, I have a 22-year-old daughter who is small, as I was, and who knows how one doesn't need to be six feet tall to be attractive, feminine, and even beautiful.
The fashion industry uses tall, slender, models because the clothes hang nicely on them in pictures and in front of cameras. The fashion industry is selling clothing. The idea is to make the clothing look as attractive as possible, and it happens that the clothes look best on tall, super-thin, models. Car companies show their cars speeding along mountain roads most cars will never be on. They show cars in front of beautiful city buildings with parking attendants and sparkling lighting. They don't show their cars in middle-class, suburban, driveways or in the huge parking lots of places drivers work. Food companies put fake food in their ads. They don't show their food on refrigerator shelves next to half-full bottles of orange juice. Shampoo companies don't show people getting shampoo in their eyes or suds up hair in unattractive, lopsided, gobs. Companies show their products in the most attractive light. Saying that clothes hang most attractively on super-tall, super-thin, young, models is saying only that. It isn't saying that those models are better people, and it certainly isn't saying that they should be role models for young girls.
Do young girls see fashion models as role models more than they should? They do, but that is not the fault of the fashion industry. The blame lies with parents who don't know how, or don't bother, to teach their daughters that they can be beautiful in their own way and that appearance only matters so much.
If you think about it, young girls who are heterosexual are going to find the narrow, straight, builds of their male counterparts more attractive than they will find their own, maturing, female, build. Super-thin fashion models have the narrow, un-curvy, build that is more similar to that of teenage boys. I can't help but suspect that it is their heterosexuality, rather than their obsession with fashion magazines, that makes many young girls long to lose their curves.
Helping young girls have the right set of values, the right perspective, and the understanding that as they lose their boyish shapes they are likely to feel dissatisfied with their own appearance. Helping them understand that and find ways to adjust is the role of parents, especially mothers.
Looking back on my own teen years, I have to say that studying those fashion magazines helped me to see my own positive and negative physical traits, come to terms to my own potential and my own limitations, and find a way to put into perspective the fact that not ever being fashion model material wasn't a big problem in the scheme of life.
Let's face it: If most of those "average" size-14 women could wake up tomorrow with the build of a fashion model they would do it. Sure, models may look like coat-hangers with a pretty face and great hair, but the fact is the clothes hang best on them in photographs. Basketball teams look for tall people. Jockeys need to be small people. Football teams look for hulking people. Dance companies look for a physique that is right for dancing. Modeling is a profession, a job, an industry - nothing else.
Teaching young girls that the role of fashion models in their lives should be an extremely minimal one is the job of parents. Raising girls who understand that admiring the appearance of perfection in magazines is one thing, while seeing models as role models is quite another, is the parents' job. Reminding girls that slender thighs or concave abdomens never earned anyone a Nobel Prize, never saved a life, and was never written about in history books, is not the job of the fashion industry. Most of us have physical flaws, and most of us admire what appears to be the beauty of physical perfection. Getting rid of images of physical perfection may eliminate beautiful images, but it won't eliminate the problem of parents' not knowing how to help their daughters like who they are any better.
Accessories 1.01 - Everything You Need to Be Ready for Any Occasion
All the Accessories You Need to Be Ready for Anything
Every woman has her own individual taste and her own individual opinion about what no woman should be without. A person's opinion about what no woman should be without is often based on how useful she, herself, has found one, particular, accessory.
If "what no woman should be without" is a matter of assuring that a woman will always have something to wear with any particular outfit and/or that she will never find herself without the right kind of accessories for a specific occasion, the following accessories will serve those purposes well. The list may appear a little intimidating, but consider that not all women will wear all things (so the list can be trimmed) and that most of the items are classic items that won't go out of style and won't be worn so often that they'll wear out easily.
SHOES
Year-Round:
Black casuals that are comfortable for walking
Brown casuals that are comfortable for walking
Black heels (pumps are the most versatile)
Brown heels (pumps are the most versatile)
Sport shoes (like running shoes)
Dressy, strappy, sandals
Late Fall and Winter:
Black "all purpose boots"
Brown "all purpose boots"
Black boots with heels (nice to have if the budget allows)
Brown or gray boots with heels (nice to have if the budget allows)
Late Spring and Summer:
Summer casuals in cream or white
Sandals
HANDBAGS:
Year-Round:
Black "all purpose"
Brown "all purpose"
Evening bag in a color/fabric that matches everything or at least matches the dressy, strappy, sandals
Summer:
Soft, Summer, bag in cream and designed suitable for both summer pants and softer skirts.
JEWELRY:
Gold earrings, small and simple (such as studs)
Silver earrings, small and simple (such as studs)
Diamond studs
Gold earrings, dressier (such as dangling)
Silver earrings, dressier (such as dangling)
Gold, simple, necklace
Silver or white gold, simple necklace
Gold necklace, dressy
Silver or white gold necklace, dressy
Gold bracelet, dressy
Silver or white gold bracelet, dressy
Gold ring in a simple design
Silver or white gold ring in a simple design
Gold ring, dressy
White gold ring, dressy
Gold lapel pin, simple
Silver or white gold lapel pin, simple
HATS:
Knit hat for Winter (in a color that goes well with accessories)
All-weather rain hat
Sun-shielding hats for summer (one sporty, one straw for non-sporty looks)
WINTER GLOVES
Black knit gloves (easily washed and no big deal if lost)
Brown knit gloves
Camel or gray gloves
Warm, insulated, mittens
SCARVES:
Late fall and Winter:
Black "all purpose"
Brown "all purpose"
Camel or gray "all purpose"
UMBRELLAS:
If there will be only one umbrella purchased it makes sense to make it a classic, good-sized, black umbrella or a classic one in a color that goes well with one's raincoat or jacket color.
Nice umbrellas to have in addition to the classic, big, umbrella:
Micro-mini in a neutral color
Large umbrella in a color appropriate for Summer
Umbrella in a designer print that is particularly fashionable and appealing
UNDER-STUFF AND OTHER STUFF:
Bra suitable for strapless tops/dresses and spaghetti straps
Camisole for see-through tops
Half slip in whatever length skirts are
Evening wrap in an all-purpose color
Sport bag
All-purpose large tote in a neutral color or great designer print
Hair clip(s) in neutral color and casual style
Hair clip(s) in gold, silver, or sparkly
Sunglasses, good quality with a frame that goes with everything
A clutch-style wallet that can hold money, credit cards, a pen, and checkbook all in on place
A cell phone (with an easy-to-see time display and emergency numbers in speed dial) small enough to fit in an evening bag
While the above list will assure that a woman will never find herself without the right accessories for any particular outfit or without the right look for any particular occasion, if a budget is too tight for this level of preparedness here's a tip: Having either black shoes and bag or brown shoes and bag in Winter, while having cream shoes and a cream bag in Summer can can go a long way for the very tight budget. If only one or two jewelry items can be purchased simple gold earrings and a simple gold necklace are probably the most versatile.
Wearing A Smile As An Accessory - I Don't Think So
Some people wear a smile as if it is an accessory. When photo-snapping time comes they slap on a big smile. When they want others to think they're friendly they whip out the smile and slap it on. Car dealers, real estate people, and servers in restaurants who want a big tip plaster on a big smile.
I generally don't smile, and I'm not a big fan of people who use a smile as an accessory. I see it as a phony. I also see it as similar to that thing monkeys do when they show their teeth.
You may think I must have a troll's personality, but I don't. I'm a very kind, friendly, positive-thinking person. I'm generally very decent-natured and don't take things seriously when they shouldn't be. I like people in general. When I see children and dogs I make it a point to do some very limited version of a smile in order to let them know they don't need to feel intimidated by me. (Think Mona Lisa, and you can imagine the extent of the smile. Maybe its slightly more than hers.)
Laughing is something I do all the time. A day doesn't go by when I don't have a few laughing incidents. Put me in a room with a few other people, and I tend to get the whole group and myself laughing without even trying. Put me in a waiting area with another woman or two, and all of us will end up giggling as if we're eight-year-old girls. I love laughing - alone or with others.
Smiling, though, only comes to me naturally when I'm all alone and when something that has made me really delighted occurs. Maybe its good news in the mail. Maybe its a child on television. Maybe its the reunion of a veteran/father and his child. For me, smiling (the natural kind) is something that just happens unexpectedly and something that isn't for other people. Its something that comes over me, rather than something I slap on to make sure other people know what a sunny person I am. I'm not out to win the "Miss Congeniality" prize when I'm at the supermarket. Smiling, to me, is supposed to be connected to our emotions; and I'm not one to be interested in letting others have a reading on my emotions. Not everyone links smiling to their emotions, so wearing a smile like an accessory doesn't feel wrong to them.
I've often wondered if my parents just never cultivated my smile response when I was an infant or whether somewhere along the way it just got disconnected. Then again I've wondered, too, if I just find it too offensive to slap on a big, phony, smile because there's some silly "rule" about why people need to go around smiling like monkeys.
When I was a little, tiny, girl my parents were disappointed when I'd go on some amusement ride and sit there with a deadpan expression. They were under the impression I didn't like the ride. I did. I just didn't smile about it. Monkeys smile. Phonies smile. Toothpaste ad people smile. I, on the other hand, don't see the use of a smile.
All my life I've had strangers walk up to me and say, "Smile" or even "Would it kill you to smile." What the heck is with people and smiling?!
When I laugh its real, and when I smile it is even more real. The way I figure it, any kindness or happiness or friendliness I feel toward people can be seen in my eyes. I refuse to show my teeth like a monkey just to please anyone who doesn't think my expressive eyes are good enough. If you can't see my positive nature in my eyes then I don't particularly want to slap on a phony smile just to make you feel better. :)
Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?
Where the joke came from I don't know, but I recall the first time I heard it and how super-funny I thought it was:
I was three or four years old and with my mother in the kitchen of my childhood home. All of a sudden my mother - out of nowhere - asked me "Why did the chicken cross the road?" The question was an odd one as far as I was concerned, but I said, "I don't know" and waited to see what other odd thing she may say. Her face brightened and her voice had a hint of fun in it as she said, "To get to the other side!" Well - that was about the funniest thing I had ever heard (and I believe the first joke I had ever heard), and the surprise answer delighted me and made me laugh. Of course, as most little kids do, I then re-told this "hilarious" joke over and over to one person or another, sometimes modifying the answer in an attempt to make it new.
The fact is that joke isn't funny to anyone who hasn't heard it a zillion times (and who is over four years old), but that first time anyone hears that tired, unfunny, joke it is the surprise, simple answer that makes it funny.
At this point that joke is, for most people, so old and so stupid and so corny it has almost come around again and become funny in its absurd way. Anyone who appreciates something that's super-stupid and super-over-done and super-corny will find this stupid joke just a little humorous.
Speaking of Chicken Questions - Chicken or Egg?
The question whether the chicken or egg came first can probably be most easily answered by people who believe that life begins at conception. Those people would believe that the chicken was conceived and just happened to have an egg around it until such time that it was ready to hatch. In other words, the egg should not be compared to the chicken because that's like comparing apples to oranges - or something like that.
People who accept the idea of evolution would likely assume that before the chicken was a chicken it was some other creature, which may or may not have had offspring that began life wrapped in an egg shell. Birds are not the only creatures who produce offspring in eggs. This would mean that before chickens were chickens they were other creatures that later evolved into chickens, which would mean that the - technically - chickens came first.
Of course, if you go way back to the very, very, beginning of when life began to grow on Earth before any creature could reproduce it would have had to have grown first; so, again, technically the chicken would have come first.
Yes - as far as I can see - all signs point to the chicken's having come first, even if the first chickens did not make their entrance looking like the creature we know today as chickens.