My Mom was the family barber. She started cutting my Dad’s hair when they were first married. She had real barber’s scissors and an electric razor that she thankfully only used on my Dad. We would sit on the old swivel piano stool that could be spun around and adjusted higher than a regular chair, while she worked on our hair with the scissors in one hand and a comb in the other. The only style she knew was the “Bob.” The “Bob” is a hairstyle that dates back to the 1920’s, when women finally liberated themselves from long tresses and “bobbed” their hair. It’s short and straight all around with bangs in the front. Except for my Dad, we all looked like little Dutch boys. I actually liked it until we decided to get home perms. The Bob doesn’t work well for curly hair. Later as teenagers we got our hair cut at Beauty Salons. I usually got a layered version of the Bob which I think was called a “Bubble.” It was poofed up by backcombing and hair spraying it into submission. I think I briefly had something resembling a “Mullet” in the 70’s, kind of like Jane Fonda in “Klute.” It looked better on Jane Fonda than it did on me. I had a big fluffy vaguely Afro perm for a while but due to the fact that my hair is very thin it didn’t stay big and fluffy very long. Because I have such fine hair I was never able to really let my hair grow long. It just looked thin and stringy.
I have had a lifelong struggle with finding a haircut that I like and the illusive Bob has always been on my mind. When I had chemotherapy and lost all of my hair, I got a wig that was cut in a Bob. I loved it. My hair looked thick and shiny. It was always perfect and so easy to do. I just popped on the wig and instantly looked like I had just walked out of the Beauty Salon. Unfortunately I felt like I was wearing a furry hat and it was not something I wanted to continue wearing when my real hair grew back. I see women with Bobs and I envy the way their hair looks - so carefree and flowy. In my mind I think my hair will look that way too, but my hair is not as thick as the women whose hair I covet. I’ve been having my hairdresser cut my hair quite short for the last few years. I see a lot of “elderly” women with short hair. Even though the short cut has worked well, the idea of the Bob still haunts me. So the last time I got my hair cut I had my hairdresser leave it a little longer, with the idea of going in the Bob direction. I had a fantasy that in two months, when I go to my high school reunion, it will have grown into a perky Bob. Now I’m not so sure. The short “do” was easy to take care of and looked consistently OK. My new not-quite-Bob-like hair is unpredictable. Some days it’s passable and some days it looks a little too much like my Mom’s hair. It certainly doesn’t look like the Bob in my fantasy. I’m not desperate enough to dig out my chemo wig from its storage box, but I’m torn about what to do. Should I go back to the short cut or keep hoping that if my hair just grows a little more I will have the hair of my dreams? I want to look like the woman in the Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries but I'm afraid I'm doomed to be Miss Marple.
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I confess. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I put my hands on the sides of my face and give myself a temporary facelift. I used to fantasize that I would get one of those facelifts advertised on TV. I remember watching with a twinge of jealously as a slew of middle aged women were instantly transformed by their “Liftestyle Lift.” It appears I waited too long. Evidently the company ended up in a series of law suits and went bankrupt in 2015. Not that I would actually put myself under the knife just to knock a couple of years off of my appearance, but my 50th high school reunion is coming up in a couple of months. I feel self-conscious about how I will look in comparison with my school mates. I realize even thinking about plastic surgery is an exercise in futility and says a lot about an unhealthy self-obsession on my part, but my brain just goes there anyway.
Like the women in the “Lifestyle Lift” commercials I was able to knock years off of my appearance and I didn’t even need to have the procedure done! I simply chose an overhead angle for the photo. I took another photo a few minutes earlier that looks way WORSE than I think I actually look because it was taken in the bright sun, with the wind blowing, from a low angle which emphasized my double chin.
It's too bad I can’t just have everyone at the reunion view me from the same angle as the “good” selfie. The only way I could possibly manage that would be to sit low in a corner so that other people wouldn’t see me from different angles, which would severely limit my ability to mingle and actually enjoy the reunion. Darn. Of course my rational self knows that everyone going to the reunion is not 18 anymore, and the most important thing is what we are like on the inside. I’ve always had fun at previous reunions and I’m looking forward to this one too. I can work out my facelift fantasies in other ways. I’m going to update my house by having some painting done and the floors refinished, and I have some drawings started that I’m going to use to give my blog a “facelift.”
“15. Make a mistake. It is, after all, one way of doing something and better than doing nothing.” I really needed to read this. I try so hard NOT to make mistakes, but there it was in writing, it’s OK to make mistakes. Of course, I know that this is a basic aspect of life, but sometimes I forget.
“17. Love in general... round people, skinny people, tall people, short people, all people.” This was a great reminder that we are all so much more than our physical selves, and also a reminder to love and accept myself as I am. I was thinking that I needed to do something major, like start a big art project or join a yoga class, in order to feed my soul. Janice Taylor’s article reminded me that it is as much, or more, about changing my attitude and doing simple everyday things, and that focusing on the shape of my life is more important than fretting about the shape of my body. Time to dream with my feet. I have never had a lot of hair. I take after my Mom, who had thin, fine hair. Maybe I take after my Dad too. He was bald. When we were little kids we said that Dad had "a hole in his head" and Grandpa had an even bigger hole. As I have gotten older my hair has become thinner and thinner. Will I eventually look like my Dad? Would that be such a bad thing? ![]() I have experienced being bald. I had surgery for breast cancer and lost all of my hair due to chemo therapy in 2006. I didn't mourn the loss of my hair. I was too focused on survival to worry about hair. What made me feel bad when I looked in the mirror was that my bald head was a very graphic reminder that I had a life threatening illness. Obviously, I did survive and I am on my ninth year of remission. There were things about being bald that I actually liked. I got a couple of really cute wigs and for the first time in my life I had my fantasy hair. It was thick and it stayed put in a perfect bob, just the way I had always wanted my own hair to be. When I wanted to go out all I had to do was pop on a wig and voila, without spending any time trying to coax my normally thin hair into something presentable, I was ready to go out looking fabulous. I also loved taking bald headed showers. The feeling of hot water massaging my bare scalp was amazing and cannot be replicated on a hairy head. At night being bald was not so great. My head would get cold. I had a special close fitting knit cap that clung to my bare head the whole night to keep me toasty warm. I remember Dad always wrapped his blankets around his head with his face sticking out like an Eskimo in a hood. After I experienced being bald I really understood why he did that. Although I was not brave enough to go out in the world without a hat or a wig at that time, I feel differently now. Several of the women in my cancer support group went "au naturel" and bare headed. I have often seen women out in the community with uncovered bald heads. I even saw a woman on TV who attended a dinner at the White House in formal dress and a bald head. I think that if my hair eventually got really thin I might consider just having it buzzed the way younger men with thinning hair, like my nephew, do. In the mean time I do what I can do to keep what hair I have. My hair guru, Jen, who has been my long time hairdresser, has guided me through the years. She cut my hair really short when I first started chemo and gave me a buzz cut when my hair loss started to make me look like a holocaust victim. ![]() Jen was the inspiration for my current short cut that makes my thinning hair look thicker. It has made my retirement hair care way easier too. We are now experimenting with products that might help keep the hair loss under control. If this doesn't work the buzz cut awaits. ______________________________________________________
![]() I have joined a health club called Toadal Fitness. Yes, that actually is the name, Toadal like the amphibian. I am taking my doctor's advice to bump up the amount of exercise I do. I like the place. I have access to the equipment and classes at the club, including the Silver Sneakers class designed especially for little old ladies such as myself, and from what I have observed, little old men as well. This morning while I was talking to a friend on the phone I thought she called the health club TURTLE Fitness. The name hit a cord with me. It perfectly describes my relationship with exercise. I have spent my whole life trying to keep up with people when I walk. I have short little legs and a short stride. The only person I was ever able to walk with who had a similar stride was my Dad. Everyone else accommodates themselves to my stride by walking slower than they normally would, or they just walk normally and I do a kind of walk/run maneuver to try and keep up. My exercise plan at the heath club is "turtle-ish" as well. Although I said I wouldn't use any equipment that resembled a recliner, that is the equipment that works best for me. I have been given a plan by a kindly and encouraging personal trainer where I use a stationary bicycle with a reclining back and a series of machines that I sit on that work on all my various body parts. I tried the elliptical machine, but getting on and off was a little dicey and I don't want to fall and break something. I'm not going anywhere near the treadmill having recently heard on the news about a man who fell off of one while on vacation and died from a head injury. ONWARD AND FORWARD, TURTLES !![]() This is an entirely new experience for me. I never in a million years expected to be working out at a health club. I thought that there was no way I could ever fit in with young, hard bodied people in spandex. Although there ARE some young, hard bodied people in spandex at Toadal Fitness, there are many people who look a lot like me. The club actually makes a point of not being a "gym." I am also feeling more adventuresome and willing to try things I might not have done in the past, just by virtue of being a little old lady. I am not as embarrassed by my body. It's the only one I have and I want to treat it kindly. The trainer encouraged me to take things at my own pace, which as I have already said, resembles a turtle. Like the turtle in the Tortoise and Hare fable, I see myself marching forward at my own slow and consistent pace. Onward and Forward! ![]() I had a physical recently and the doctor said I needed to exercise more often and more vigorously and eat more green leafy vegetables. It's not as if I didn't know this already, but it's so much more final when the information is delivered by a doctor. I don't hate greens but they just don't have the same appeal as bread. My doctor says he keeps his bread in the freezer and only eats it once a week, if that. I suppose he was attempting to be a role model but I really don't give a hoot that he has better eating habits than I do. I put my bread in the freezer too, and then I hear it calling me from the living room. He means well but he is thin and evidently also does a variety of activities for exercise. He revealed this to spur me on as well. I wonder what he is thinking as we discuss my health? Is he looking askance at the rotund little old lady sitting naked, except for a pair of peds and a hospital gown (which is not in the least bit fashion forward), dangling her short little legs over the end of his examination table? I guess he's just doing what he is supposed to do, keeping on top of my health issues and encouraging me to do something about them before something really bad happens. I know that he has my best interests at heart. Therefore, I must find a way to incorporate his suggestions into my life. And it must certainly be something more than putting a half dozen baby arugula leaves on my hamburger. It's easy to get bogged down in negative thinking about all the reasons why it's soooo hard to eat more leafy greens and do more exercise. Instead of moaning about what I can't do I decided to focus on what I CAN do. I can plan my vegetable first instead of considering them a side dish. I have already started writing down a food plan for my day. If I plan my meals around a vegetable instead of a protein I will make veggies a priority. I can prep some veggies early in the day so they are ready for lunch or dinner. For some reason, the thought of preparing a vegetable in the evening seems like a lot of work. I can buy some greens that I can cook. I really like fresh spinach when it's lightly sautéed. I bought a package of mixed cruciferous veggies. They would be good sautéed too. I tend to like cooked greens better than salads. I can look through my cookbooks or online for some new recipes that use greens. I need inspiration if I'm going to be serious about making some changes in what I eat. I'm also going to look into taking advantage of my Silver Sneakers card. For anyone who is not a Medicare recipient, Silver Sneakers is one of the benefits provided by Medicare. You get a card when you begin Medicare coverage. I love the name. It sounds like an athletic Cinderella. There are several local fitness clubs that have Silver Sneakers classes. I'm going to check them out. I understand that once you join a class you have access to their exercise equipment too. ![]() ______________________________________________ All of this "I can" stuff sounds good, but what am I really WILLING to do. Tonight I almost threw all of my "I cans" out the window. After an afternoon nap I woke up and was not in the least bit interested in eating what I had planned, including the watermelon and cucumber salad that was the major veggie part of my dinner. I started rifling through the fridge in the compulsive way that leads to bad choices. There it all was, the ingredients for my salad. I hadn't chopped them up earlier in the day the way I had intended, but I couldn't ignore them. Grudgingly I made my big bowl of salad. It turned out beautiful! Yay me! The "I can" list is obviously going to have to be acted on one day, even one meal at a time. It's those little constant opportunities to make a decision to keep my commitments to myself that are important. I wish there was something more exciting and glamorous about changing health habits. Unfortunately it's all about plodding regularity, seeking out help, and connecting to the part of me that wants to be healthy. My doctor can't be the only one who wants the best for me. I have to want the best for myself too. ![]() I really don’t wear makeup. I entered my adult life in the 70’s when being “natural” and going braless was the way to go. Occasionally over the last 40 years I have bought makeup but I have never worn it on a daily basis. It seems to sit in a drawer developing whatever bacteria makeup accumulates over time until I’m afraid I’ll contaminate myself if I put it on. In a week I will be attending my nephew’s wedding and I don’t want to waste all the time I have put into finding an appropriately elegant outfit only to ruin it with a naked, makeup-less face. I must find something to update my look. I am intimidated by those department store makeup counters and the women in their pseudo-medical white jackets. I don’t want to struggle to heave myself into one of those tall stools and sit in front of God and everyone having stuff I am unfamiliar with applied to my face. Thank goodness everything I ever wanted to know about makeup is on line. I found a very interesting YouTube video on how to apply makeup on the elderly. The model was not a smooth complexioned 19-year-old. She had wrinkles and brown spots. She did look like she had BEEN a former model, and I will never look as good as she does, with or without makeup, but it was a very informative video. I also found out that I have what is known in the makeup trade as “hooded eyes.” That means that the skin below the eyebrow covers up part, or in my case ALL, of the eyelid. I watched another video where a young woman demonstrated on her own eyes. They were not as hoody as mine, but I liked the way she did one eye the “wrong” way and one eye the “right” way. Armed with all this new found knowledge, I now I have about 5 days to get some products and experiment. Yikes! Why did I put this off so long? How hard can this be? I am, after all, an artist. I actually paint. I know how to use watercolor and acrylics. I am skillful at brushwork. However, in the past these skills have not really helped that much when it comes to putting on makeup. __________________________________________________________________ ![]() Fast forward several days and I have now made my makeup purchases. It was actually a fun adventure. A friend took me to a store that was dedicated entirely to makeup and beauty products, AN ENTIRE STORE! I would have been totally intimidated by myself, but she guided me smoothly through the door. We were helped by a lovely young lady who was very good at choosing colors and products that worked for me. Yes I did heave myself into one of those high stools, but my friend helped shove me up and kept me from sliding out of the slippery acrylic seat. The stool was off in a secluded corner where I didn't feel self conscious. I have now spent more than I did on my dress on a collection of makeup carefully selected so that I don't look like I'm wearing any. There is irony in this, but I feel pretty and dewey fresh in my new purchases. Due to my internet research I was able to ask a few informed questions and stick with a reasonable plan, if not a reasonable budget. Yay me! Bring on this wedding! ![]() After the purchase of a pair panty hose and some experimenting with jewelry I have now assembled my wedding outfit. I am ready to PAR-TAY! I took some photos of the look (minus makeup) and I feel good. I didn't want the photos to look too stiff so I did some dance moves to liven them up. It has been a while since I went to a dance and my repertoire of dance moves is limited mainly to dances from the 60's. I did the Jerk, the Monkey, the Mashed Potato, the Swim, the Twist, and of course that wedding favorite, the Hokey Pokey. I also experimented with a little Hip Hop. In the 1990's I used to go to dances with a friend and I remember the "YMCA" dance was popular with the middle aged singles crowd. I became quite good at it. Of course there is nothing in the tone of the wedding invitation or the information I have recieved that suggests that any of these dances will be happening at this wedding. Who cares! I had fun practicing my dance moves. Most of the dance photos were so funny that I wasn't going to use them but when I strung them all together they kind of made me look like I was dancng, If I could speed up the slide show effect it would be better but I set it to go fast as the program would allow. I hope it looks a little like I am dancing and not like I am having some sort of seizure. Writing this blog has really given me a new sense of freedom and changed how I view myself. I would NEVER have imagined that I would post pictures of myself online doing the Hokey Pokey before doing this blog. I will keep this in mind as I do the Pony like "Bony Moronie" at the reception. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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