...Just a Minute...
Edition 5When I was growing up, I definitely had all the answers. Now I’m getting all the questions and finding it extremely hard to get all the answers.
When I was growing up, women outside the family were foreigners. The way they sought out each other’s company, confided in each other, laughed secret laughs, enjoyed the slumber parties and hair-and make-up parties, and even worse, shopped in groups, was so mysterious to me that, to this day, I’ve been unable to break their secret code. If I were a man, I’d probably be considered a misogynist.
It’s difficult for me to read a Glamour or Bazaar magazine now for, after the first few pages, confusion appears ....what with the talk about orgasms, beautifying hints, how-to-keep-your- lover advice and all in that damned secret code.
Mom felt the same way, I believe, as she had only one or two female friends and those stayed with her all her (and their) lives. I inherited her love of beauty but not as it was applied to our bodies. We kept ourselves en vogue, of course, and sought out good hairdressers but it was not the be-all and end-all of our lives. So that is one of the last questions I will ask of life: why are women like they are?
I’d love to hear from seniorwomen and perhaps some answers to these questions. Heck, even if you don’t have the answers, would love to hear why you were like that or if you feel/felt the same. E-mail me, ladies.
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