I have this long-standing habit of leafing through fashion magazines or catalogues and asking myself, on every page, “Out of the selection on these two pages, what would I buy?”. It’s a tad compulsive habit at this point, probably because I have been doing it for so long, but it’s a cheap and engaging way of spending twenty minutes.
I read, aghast, in an interview with Elle MacPherson, that the supermodel once nicknamed The Body, will not dream of wearing a bikini anymore, now that she has reached 50. Elle MacPherson? The same Elle MacPherson who still looks glorious and gloriously unretouched? I was taken aback and, for a long moment, I wondered whether it was time I re-thought my bikini policy.
The thought occurred to me yesterday that I don’t spend enough time around young people, at least not that segment of youth between 20 and 30. Not that I can think of any reasons why I should: an effort to stay relevant? The thought occurred as I found myself catering the wedding of a young couple, at a beautiful house by the ocean in Malibu, in an unusual sweltering heat, the sort of heat that hits Southern California only a handful of days a year, when the breeze goes into hiding and, if you are trapped in a chef’s coat, standing under a palm tree, preparing appetizers, you risk going mad from dehydration and sunstroke.
J.Crew – I was rather harsh on Jenna Lyons a couple of years ago, when I wrote her an open letter complaining of the scarcity of garments someone like me – her ideal customer – could choose from. Now, every time I receive J Crew’s catalogue, I must restrain myself from whipping out the credit card and start ordering. So many pretty and easy things for the Summer!
Mooching around a shoe store in Santa Monica with my friend Luisa, she mentioned her doctor recommended she stops wearing flats. “Not good for your back – that is why you are experiencing pain along your sciatic nerve”.
Luisa, who is tall and favors a casual style, wears flats exclusively: not just ballet flats but flat boots, sandals, booties…the whole nine yards. I must have seen her in (2”) heels maybe twice in all the years I have known her.
“I don’t know what to do, I am so used to flats….” she trailed off, picking up a pair of Sketchers.
“You are not buying Sketchers” horrified, I plucked the shoe from her hands and put it back on the shelves.
I went to a lecture a couple of days ago, held by three doctors, all female, all professionals with their own practices and/or research laboratories. It certainly wasn’t a frivolous occasion and I noticed that all of them, women in their early to late 40s, wore either a skirt or a dress and high heels. One of them, in particular, sported a lovely periwinkle sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist, with a wide skirt and golden sandals. Not your typical work attire.