Tag Archives: Women

Dear Mrs. Victoria Secret,

3 Jan

VictoriaSecret_Bag

Dear Mrs. Victoria Secret,

I’ve tried on two of your garments in the last two days. One came in the mail, the other in my local shop…..Mrs. Secret, we need to chat….A little heart to heart…girl talk…

First, let’s start with the bathing suit I ordered (on sale) which was received this week. Since I’m now a grandma and all, I thought I may need something to cover my tummy on future boating outings….I mean, I certainly don’t remember my grandma sporting a bikini….

The price was right, the color hot! A bright peachy / pinky coral number, which looks fantastic on my olive skin. I read the dimensions more than once, carefully selecting the correct size. When the tankini (a tank top swim top) arrived, I was eager to try it on.

I ran over two miles that day and walked my dogs…I guess I could have been a little worn out, my muscles a little tired….

After the first 5 seconds of attempting to slip the tankini over my head, I knew this would not end well….

My arms splayed over my head, elbows touching, my eyes blinded by the fabric which is simultaneously gripping  my upper rib cage, it is now cutting off the circulation….my breath is becoming shallow…I sit on the toilet, arms still lifted, trying to fill my lungs…I feel like I’m caught in a bad game of Chinese handcuffs…the more I pull, the tighter it is…

tta3339_magic_finger_traps__32905-323x520

Breathe in, then out completely, like they taught me in yoga…now try to pull that damn thing down to my hips….it only took a couple of tries…maybe three…or four….I rest on the side of the bathtub before examining in the mirror.

Whewww… It looks fine, I think……smoothing it down, turning side to side…but it feels…It feels a bit like a sausage casing…and I can only imagine how I will get this damn thing off when it is wet…Scissors may be required…

We actually wear these things to swim in right??? Or am I the only one?

Fast forward to yesterday. Imagine my surprise when I land smack dab in the middle of your semi-annual sale. Yippeee…happy dance….My husband and I are just returning from a getaway, I think – ooohhh, I’ll try this little number on…Strappy and black… the bra connected to the skirt. As I walk into the fitting room, I wonder, how exactly does this thing work?

I try stepping into it…nope….

I try pulling it on over my head

….and I’m repeating the day before… Chinese handcuffs….

Now, I’m cussing…and my mood is foul….

Wholly shit…I don’t think I can get this damn thing off…and I’m certain I’m not ‘IN’ it to begin with….

I contemplate calling in the sales staff…I’ve seen three working the floor…flipping through the list, I wonder who would answer the call? The young 20ish, size 0, who could probably somersault into this get-up? Oh my Lawwddd…I close my eyes….shake my head…no, this is an adventure I must tackle alone….

….breathe in, breath out…pull, step… breathe in, breath out, crouch, push, sit….geezzzee…Who knew yoga could come in so handy?

I had no idea the level of athleticism needed for such a small amount of fabric….I mean, I’ve been working out and all…but COME ON VICTORIA!!

Mrs.Secret, I really like the IDEA of your garments…I’m sure they would look super cute…However, should you require six years of gymnastics experience and ownership of a trampoline to get your “outfits” on, it really should be noted in the description.

Exhausted,
Lady Chatsalot

PS – HIRE MORE WOMEN DESIGNERS!!

Tags: , , , ,

These heels were made for walking…..

19 Oct

dbae314e60654dca97c109b3e8f92971

A good girl with a rebellious heart.

Comfortable in the sea of black pants and sweater sets, car pool lines and packed lunches. My defiance for the norm tends to show its face in my choice of shoes.

I wear heels. A lot. Great, kick ass shoes.

I don’t wear them for men.  I’ve had the same one of those for more than half my life. I’m certainly not looking to start that process over again. He actually prefers flats…canvas tennis shoes to be exact.  I’ve told him that he may have married the wrong woman… thankfully, he vehemently disputes.

What I’ve learned over the last few decades is that wearing canvas tennis shoes literally kills my spirit with each eyelet. I was born to wear heels. The higher the better.  Add grommets and I’m in shoe heaven.  They make me feel tall….skinny…and put together.

What surprises me are some of the remarks I get from other women. It is as if I was parading around in nothing BUT heels.

Don’t get me wrong, I can decipher the comments. Most are genuine and sincere. “Great shoes!” They smile and I beam in response. We are forever connected by the love of fashion.

Sisters from another mister.

For those who sling digs, hidden under the cloak of a compliment…Keep it to yourself Missy. I can see you. Your raised eyebrow  and tilted head, scoffs stuttering out, over and between your words.

I’m wearing shoes, not a dunce cap.

Simultaneously holding the ability to empower…and crush…with the flick of our tongue. Why choose the latter?

The older I get, the more I realize women need women. Women who support one another in ways men just can’t understand. Women to lift each other up when we are at our wits end trying to balance work, family, laundry, finances, church groups and toilets….

Nothing looks more beautiful on you than love. The good news is the more you share it, the more it comes back to you.

Come on ladies. Let’s rise above. Put on those heels, and rock it.

DSC_6366.1

Tags: , , , , , ,

Dressed for Success??

28 Jul

20140728-195939-71979557.jpg

  I’ve heard that as you age you quit giving two cents about the silly things….

Periodically, I make up “life rules” to help make sense of and organize the craziness in my head. One tried and trusty one is “once I’m in, I’m in.” Which translates to once I’m in my home, I’m not going back out, unless the house is on fire…

I came home tonight and did what I always do. I made a beeline for my bedroom and changed into my comfy, well-worn sweats and a tank. (It is 105 outside but the inside of my house is a meat locker, thanks to Mr.K .)

Much to my dismay, I realized that a grocery store run was necessary to prevent a lunch preparation meltdown in the morning. I mean whatevvvaaa would my kid do without a sandwich AND ten snacks for lunch at summer camp???

….hmmmph….

Muling my options for about twenty minutes, it was simply unavoidable…I had to go…and I was going as is, damn it…NO way was I going to the store AND changing back into real clothes….. I mean, I live in a tiny little town and who is going to see me any way, I rationalized?

Apparently two of my co-workers – THAT  is who! Male and female….

I have a reputation….I like heels. I like makeup. I like to dress up….Simply put, I like being a girl. It isn’t a chore for me. It is a part of me. I feel my absolute best when I’m all put together.

Tonight?  Not so much….my hair was pulled messily in a half pony, half not…makeup all but gone from the 105 temps earlier in the day..sloppiness slopping out of every pore…..and I don’t care…or at least that is what I said when I walked out of my house…

First, from a distance I hear, “H, how was YOUR day today?” Assuming…I’m guessing… that I was wrangling bulls, given my appearance. I managed a quick smile,  half a wave, pushing my cart with all my might to the produce section…

Where my fashionable, cutie -putie co-worker caught me browsing the organics. “H, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in sweats.” ….

I responded with a flushed face and absent minded response…. “These are my pajammas.” …

HELLLLLOOO!! Wake up Call!!

What grown lady goes to Publix in her PJ’s on a Monday at 6pm!

Trying my best to escape anyone else who may loud-out my laziness, I start lobbing food from my cart..chocolate chips, chocolate chip cookies, Italian cream cake…three types of cheese….I glance up to make sure I’m not hitting anyone with flying food….

Who do I see? One of my favorite size 0 (–YES ZERO–) gym rats. She says, “I’m going to your house!” as she points to the conveyor belt full of crap-ola…

All I can do is hang my head and chuckle “I’m so busted tonight. Great.”

In the safety of my newly restocked kitchen, I start defending myself to Mr.K who is bewildered that I went out of the house as is….

“They say as you get older you don’t care about the silly stuff. I’m a grandma now…I can go out in curlers and slippers, If I WANT to, rightttt???”

…. Oh well, at least I was wearing a bra….

Tags: , , , ,

Friendships that never grow old

25 Oct

– 1990 –
Title       /      Artist
1) HOLD ON  / Wilson Phillips
2) IT MUST HAVE BEEN LOVE / Roxette
3) NOTHING COMPARES 2 U / Sinead O’Connor
4) POISON / Bell Biv Devoe
5) VOGUE  / Madonna

Ohhhh yeah, buddy…”Hold on to one more day” (Wilson Phillips) ….It was 1990 something.     ^ Those were the top singles of the year ^.     I remember singing that song at the top of my lungs…and I can’t hold a tune!  BIG hair  and big earrings were in. Keds and tight rolled jeans….I actually don’t have a ton of memories from this age…which is probably a good thing.

Have you ever had that friendship that no matter where you left off, you can easily pick up?  They know your true heart, before life got complicated with bills, kids, car pools, soccer games, and husbands.  They love you for you, for the memories you created that binds you together like gorilla glue. I am lucky to have been blessed with  two sisters like this.  No, they are not my bio-siblings. But I love them with every ounce of my being. If they needed a kidney, they could call me.  They are my sisters.

seb

*That is me on the left. S was rockin’ the denim look…and blue hair..Don’t let this picture fool you though. She was oh, so cool.*

My friendship with S started before we could speak. Our fathers were friends…and while I can’t say many positive things about either of them, they did kick start this sisterhood.  For that, I tip my hat.  S and I recently met up after nearly 20 years without any communication. Facebook opened the door and we eagerly sprinted through to each others arms. We spent an entire day together; me watching her family play on the beach. I adored every minute of it, trying to capture moments in time on the lens of my camera.  It was incredible and easy….crazy easy. Peaceful….I’m not sure what either of us expected when we setup the date, but the ease of picking right back up as if we never skipped a beat surprised us both.  Obviously, we are both grown with families. Surely we have changed since we last saw each other at 15…but our spirit had not. It was still right there, waiting. She is like a piece of my puzzle that I had been waiting to fill….  I would give her a kidney in a skinny minute.

H and I became friends in 1989/ 1990.  It was my freshman year of high school and I had just moved to Indiana.  She lived in my neighborhood.  We instantly became friends and pretty inseparable until I moved back to SC. We have the kind of friendship that no matter how old I am, I turn back into a teenager when I’m with her.  We giggle and horse around. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she is my sister in every sense of the word.  The kind you poke with a stick, but would beat someone with the same stick if they tried to do the same… With out a doubt though, she is probably the only one on the planet that can transport me back in time…maybe because she knows all my crazy teenager secrets! My kidney is hers, should she ever need it. (But she has to promise to keep her mouth c.l.o.s.e.d!)

heather*I only post these because H just did a TBT on Facebook. These are the only photos I can find, but I know we sat in this photo booth nearly 100 times. Maybe I hid them to protect myself. Who knows?*

I’m not sure where I would be without these women to love me. Our friendships allow each other the grace to be busy raising our kids, married, doing what needs to be done to keep the ship afloat.  Our love has a strong bond.  It is not jealous or demanding.  There is an unspoken, underlining current that ripples through these each of these relationships. It  whispers, if you need me, I will be there. It is in our tone, in our walk, in our hugs….We will drive like a bat from hell to come to the rescue. We will kick ass and take names. We will listen. We will cry. We will pick you up and dust you off. We will be there despite everything that could happen, everything that will happen, the silence and distance…We will be there…and yes,  I will give S & H my kidney if they need it.

I just pray that both of you don’t ask for one….especially at the same time….

Some day somebody’s gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don’t you know?
Don’t you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things’ll go your way
Hold on for one more day

Wilson Phillips

Tags: , , , ,

Dirty Girl Run

15 Sep

Dirty girl

I am self proclaimed girly girl. I adore things that shimmer and shine, make-up and heels. When I was younger, people would use the term ‘girly girl’ as if it was carried some sort of negative connotation. In their tone, you sensed that being a tom boy made you a stronger, smarter, more desirable woman. In my old age I’ve realized that is simply ridiculous. Women come in all shapes and sizes, all levels of estrogen. One is not worth more or less because of their desire for pretty things, or for that matter, the lack of . Truth be told, there are still women today that use that same tone as they critique my shoes, or clothes or whatever they choose to voice. My response? I laugh, flip my hair and hope my tiara blinds them before I walk away. The only time I think it may be better to be a man is when I have to use the porta potty. Standing could be an asset….

This weekend I had the pleasure of hanging out with a fantastic group of women to play in the mud. HUH? Yep, it was a 5k with 10 obstacles. The goal was to get as muddy as possible and laugh. We met and exceed the goal! When I agreed to do the run I was scared. Scared I wouldn’t be able to complete the course. Scared of what it would entail. Scared of mud in awkward places…In the end I decided to give it a go. What the heck, right?

I’ve reached the age where life is comfortable. The down side is this also comes the risk of becoming stagnant. If I don’t branch out, I’m apt to be stuck in the same comfortable, pink silk lined box that I’m used to. Yes, it is pretty and soft in there. However after a while, even the prettiest of things can become mundane. I’m ready to discover what I can do. I’m putting fear in its place. In a cardboard box of its own, tightly wrapped in duct tape, placing it on a high shelf that can not be easily reached. Win, loose or draw, I’m going for it.

A few months ago, I ran the Color Me Rad 5k run with some of these same ladies. We ran while they pelted us with colored cornstarch. And we laughed….I laughed so much that I had purple teeth at the end. We are now planning our next run and I can’t wait! We didn’t start 2013 with a running goal or a plan to have a running team. Some how it ended up that way. In fact, we are not true runners…At least I’m not. I keep trying but I stink at it. I secretly hope one day I’ll magically wake up a runner. Yet, by the time this year is over, we will have at least 3 organized 5ks under our belt. It is funny how quickly your world can expand, if you are open to change and allow yourself the freedom to try.

color me rad

Reflecting on the weekend, I am simply amazed that I have such wonderful women in my life that are willing shed their comfortable Saturday for a day in the mud. We supported each other, clapped and cheered. We laughed and giggled and whooo-hooo’ed. In a world where people are so critical of each other, (especially women) it was nice to spend the day with those that had no other objective but to have fun.

Feeling blessed!

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Newer Entries →

%d bloggers like this: