I was reminiscing with a dear old friend today about our childhood days when we were thirteen and fourteen without a care in the world. We had no idea what lied ahead: sorrow, joy, pain, exultation, grief and unexpected happiness and delights.
No, we had other things on our minds–important things. We didn’t waste our hours in front of monitors playing video games or texting people until our fingers wanted to drop. We busied ourselves in front of our mirrors. Meet the first (and best) fashionistas. That word hadn’t even been invented yet.
We experimented with lip colors. There was a shade called Tangee back then that was all the rage. I guess Tangee was a take on tangerine. It was considered the hottest color of the day.
All cosmetics were high on our list of beautification items, but just as important was the sweater we planned to wear to the weekly Friday night dance. And if one of us happened to have enough money to buy a new sweater, we would all troop over to the avenue (malls hadn’t been invented yet either) to lend encouragement and opinions. First and foremost it had to feel soft, it had to be the right color of course, and it had to be snug without being obviously snug, but just snug enough. The amount of snugness was very important.
An entire weekend could be spent on these undertakings. Each one of us endeavored to be the best we could be, We meant to be a smash hit as we walked into the dance.
Jump forward many years and try to imagine my dismay to have two gorgeous daughters who never felt the need to wear any makeup–never tried to enhance their beauty. They belonged to the all-natural group.
I still can’t comprehend a generation who thinks it’s okay to wear plaid with checks.
