I can’t help myself. I am a firm believer in retail therapy. In those long, cold boring days of January, there’s nothing like a “SALE” sign to brighten the spirit. Why do you think they have the half-yearly sales? They want to keep you coming back in February too, but remember, the new stuff won’t come in until March.
My friend, Betty, was a savvy shopper as well, and like all of us, had to occasionally clear out the old to make room for the new. She once called me to come help her decide what to throw out, and since we were the same size, I naturally jumped at the chance. I scored a cute pair of light green sling-back shoes, never worn by her because they hurt her feet. They hurt mine too, but they were so cute I could force myself to wear them. While I was trying to determine what I had in my closet that actually went with them, she knocked on my door and asked for them back. What a disappointment. But next day she came again and thrust them through the door snarling in a disgusted way “Take them!” So I did.
We had a running exchange for several years with boxes of See’s chocolates. When I was a couple of pounds too heavy, I hid mine in the attic. It took a trip to the garage to get the ladder and climb into the hall opening to reach it, so I could stay away until I forgot about it. One day she knocked on my door and handed me a box of See’s with 7 pieces left. I solved her dilemma by dividing the odd piece and we each ate 3 1/2, rather like a modern day Solomon.
We took tap lessons together, and once when my father was visiting we had him check out our new routine, complete with top hats and canes. When we were through tapping our hearts out, I asked him what he thought of it. Without a moment’s hesitation, he declared “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”
I miss him and I miss her.
The ancient Egyptians wore wigs to shield their shaved heads from the sun. I can see that was a good idea; who wants a sunburned head? Styles have come and gone through the years, and cultures have changed. People wore wigs for many reasons including religious, costume, cosmetic , convenience or just for fun. It’s nice to be able to change your appearance at will.
I was cursed with wimpy hair. You might even say I hate my hair. I always hated the color as well, but you can always change the color, which I did often. When it finally turned a real color (grey) a grandson took a look and asked me if it was blonde or grey. I told him to take his choice.
During the 60’s when “big hair” was the style, I was not able to achieve it no matter how vigorously I back-combed and sprayed, so I bought a wig.
It was human hair and very expensive, and had to be professionally washed and styled, and I loved it. Until I overheard Republican great-aunt Georgia say to my grandmother
“She wants to look like Jackie Kennedy.” What really hurt was that I did! Jackie was an icon of style, and had great hair as well. I probably couldn’t carry it off anyway, being about 8 inches shorter. Plus it really did take a lot of money to look that good.
They make wigs and hairpieces of synthetic material which through the years is hard to tell from human hair. You can wash them yourself, and change your style and color whenever the mood or the occasion demands it. How cool is that?
Dogs like wigs too I found out the hard way once while visiting my daughter in Seattle. I put my wig on a table in the bedroom and went downstairs with the rest of the family. Suddenly my grandchildren came running in yelling “Mom! Jessie’s running down the road with Grammie’s wig!” They don’t have that dog anymore, but then, I don’t have that wig either.