As I rolled the garbage bins to the street for pick-up before I wake in the morning, I remembered to fetch my mail from the mailbox. I always go through it and throw ninety-nine percent of it in the garbage. Mostly catalogues. I get lots and lots of catalogues. I started to throw this one in the bin, but something stopped me. I caught a glimpse of the girl on the cover. I am that girl, I thought to myself. Then I laughed. I used to be a little like that girl except I was a blonde. The tall and thin part I had down right. Maybe I was just tall and skinny. No matter.
The charm of getting old is that you are allowed to remember yourself as the beauty you wish you’d been. In his old age, my husband confessed his major attraction to me in the first place. Those long, strong legs, he said. He always had that little grin in his eyes when he remembered. I laughed as I always laughed when he said something funny. I liked it when he was being funny. It never mattered that he was being serious. What’s the difference? I always thought that.
Why the hell didn’t Eileen Fisher make this for me forty years ago? I would have worn it with such style, such grace, such beauty. A willowy, elusive kind of beauty that frightens men and enrages women. Except I would have slipped that long bone cigarette holder between her slender fingers. Ah, there I have it just right.
Oh well, it’s gettin’ late. I ought to let the dogs out and go on to bed, I reckon.
Your description and this photo makes me imagine the young Anne Bancroft (with cigarette holder). The catalogues I always poured over were the J. Peterman ones–such novelty and description, I wanted everything on every page.
I just came across this posting and thought of you. Mr. Rooney wasn’t always someone I enjoyed, but often drew a smile . . . . http://jennysserendipity.wordpress.com/2012/02/29/andy-rooney-on-women-over-forty/
LikeLike
J. Peterman! I bought a lot of stuff from that catalogue. It was like reading a clever novel. I kept a lot of them for a long time just for the fun of reading the descriptions. I bought the leather mailman’s satchel and carried it for years. It was just beginning to look really fashionably worn when I put it aside. I still have it. I will carry it again, I’m sure. I read the book about his business failure and was glad to see the catalogue again. I think I still get it. Do you? You’d like the satchel, for sure and could never wear it out. It would actually make a decent camera bag now that I think of it.
Yes, Anne Bancroft. I thought of her too. I liked Andy. I read Jenny’s post, but forgot to tell you. That was a good Andy one. Thanks.
LikeLike
wonderful. I will check out the catalogue for sure. thanks.
LikeLike
I love the simplicity of Eileen Fisher and can see you wearing it then and now. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLike
I never seem to get that kind of reaction when I wear something like that.
*sorry, tired joke… I can never seem to help myself, though!*
🙂
LikeLike
Oh, Lord! You make me laugh. We take ourselves a little too seriously sometimes. You get it. I like a guy who gets it. I’m still laughing. Good jokes never die. Thanks for that one!
LikeLike
You’re stunning, George. Then and now.
LikeLike
Ah, Lemony. What a lovely thing you said. But then, you are lovely all the way through.
The one stunning thing about me that I am certain of is that I am stunningly shameless. I love being told that I am “stunning”…then and now! Thank you for making feel loved.
LikeLike
Haha, am not getting into that discussion 😀
LikeLike
You’re a wise man, Francis! 😉
LikeLike
😀
LikeLike
Another wonderful post George, reflecting on reflections from the past. Could it be that more than the physical similarities? Perhaps it is the youthful spirit of freedom and joy that you are recognizing in the image & yourself.
I sent you a better resolution of the Xanadu image by e-mail. Did it get to you through all the security walls ? The Canadian-American border is not as easy to cross these days. 🙂
LikeLike
Corrections: Could it be that more than just the physical similarities? Had another one of my dyslexic moments. 🙂
LikeLike
I have to look through my inbox. It’s stuffed! I really do appreciate your thinking of sending a higher resolution image. Now, who would do that? I’m going to treasure that picture and the poem. My only niece will treasure it too when I’m gone. Thank you so much.
I suppose you are right about my “reflection on that reflection from the past”. Why else would I have thought of it.
LikeLike
I have NO trouble seeing you in this outfit…yes, with the cigarette holder. I think you should get it! Being in the ‘short and dumpy’ category myself I’ve always admired women who had long legs (and the style and courage to use them other than for walking!) Though short, I’ve always been proud of my legs and I’ve no shame in showing them off….especially when I’ve been cycling a lot! On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t get this outfit…..
; )
LikeLike
I think maybe you’re right, Alex. Let’s just leave that illusion alone. Odd. I had you figured to be tall. Your photograph and your personality suggest that image to me. I guess I stereotyped you, didn’t I? Oh, dear. I was the polar opposite of my husband’s ideal woman. He was taken with much shorter, more feminine women with dark eyes and hair. Then the fool married me. When I asked him why in the world he did such a thing, the best answer I ever got was, “Hell, I wouldn’t buy a car nobody else wanted!” I always laughed about that.
LikeLike
He sounds absolutely wonderful!
LikeLike
He was delightful, all right. One Christmas, I was frantically wrapping gifts while he lounged on the sofa. I was really stewing about how he was always oblivious to anything that needed to be done. Without even looking at me, he said, “Hey, Fat Girl, Whatcha’ want for Christmas”. I heard my mother say, “A little piece of mind!” Without missing a beat he, said, “You got a little piece of that. What else you want?” What could I do? I threw a roll of ribbon at him and just sat down and laughed. Then there was the Christmas he gave me a beautifully-wrapped box of switches. You’d have loved him.
LikeLike
Another great story George. Perhaps Eileen Fisher is a mirror image
LikeLike
Thanks, Cowboy. The trouble is you can’t read my little stories until I’ve fixed them at least twice! 😉
LikeLike
Cowboy, you got me again. I must have been asleep when I replied to your “mirror image” joke. Anyway, it tickled me when I thought about it later. I’m gonna’ have to watch out for that wit of yours. You’re too clever for me!
LikeLike
Now, Shimon, just how did you imagine me? Short and dumpy? You made me laugh. I shall post a photograph of my young self just for you.
LikeLike
No, I didn’t imagine you short and dumpy, but I imagined a rather different presence than the one of this young woman… I will appreciate a photo from your younger days… and would probably appreciate even more, a photo (large enough to contemplate) of you these days. For it is you of nowadays that I have met and admired.
LikeLike
Interesting that she reminds you of yourself… not at all the way I imagined you.
LikeLike