Atypical 60

For what its worth, I have a draft regarding shoes in my blog’s drafts.  I was all ready to post with pictures but something happened.

My poor little heels.  All donated. Never to be worn again!

It wasn’t pretty.

But first, please allow me to backtrack a little.  Carpeting is the bane of my existence. I hate it. It is dirty.  It is filled with dust mites and after a while, carpeting looks shitty.  I said it. It. Looks. Shitty. And so, we had quite a bit of carpeting replaced with hardwood.

Ugh. I’m so glad we got rid of this.

First off, we had the banisters on the stairs painted white and black.  I love the vibe.

First things first.  The stair railings look so much better now.

Then it was time to have the stairway from the entrance to the first floor made nice by getting rid of the carpeting and replaced with hardwood.  I love the vibe.

The process. It looks beautiful.

I love our stairs!

At the same time, we had the carpeting in the living room replaced with hardwood.  It turned out lovely and we both love the vibe.

I feel like I’m back in NYC with the hardwood in the living room…

It makes my heart happy!

Yes. It was a mess for a few days because all the furniture had to be moved but it was no big deal. My husband paid a couple of teenaged boys down the street and all was well.

Furniture had to be moved but it was so worth the trouble!

Then it happened.  The disaster.

We have a fridge and the fridge has an ice maker and water faucet. You know. Modern conveniences.  We’ve had the fridge since we moved here 13 years ago.   My husband noticed a puddle of water that appeared to be oozing from the bottom of our fridge.  He cleaned it up.  Shortly thereafter, another puddle appeared.  In the meantime, he figured the fridge had passed away and it was time to buy a new one and so he did.  He also called up our homeowner’s insurance to see if there was any damage from the leak.

This is similar to what our fridge leak looked like. I didn’t take a pic–this is from the internet.

Well, my friends, that leak must have started quite some time ago because the leak made its way down to the little storage room (that is fixed to house another bathroom but we haven’t gotten around to it so it is used for storage).   A section of the ceiling had to be ripped out.  The other odd thing is I was doing laundry a few weeks back and I heard dripping from the walls.  My husband said it was the house noises but looking back–I can bet it was the fridge leaking.

Before and after. It’s weird because the after photo has glare that makes it look like there’s damage but it isn’t. It was the glare from my camera and the lights.

Then the fridge had to be moved.  In the meantime, my husband paid for the new fridge and he paused the delivery—which was a good thing.  The water damage was worse than we thought.  Hardwood in the kitchen had to be ripped out.  The flooring in the pantry had to be ripped out.

The fridge was moved and is no longer leaking.  That’s a portion of the floor that was ripped up. It’s such a fine view from the sunroom.

Special industrial -sized machines to soak up the water had to be hooked up in both our kitchen and storage room.

It took a week-and-a-half of constant din from the noise. It didn’t bother me because A. I grew up in a noisy  house and B. I was used to the low-flying planes landing at both LaGuardia and JFK.

These machines, although smaller, were also downstairs.

Water water everywhere and not a drop to spare!

The house is now a mess.  The hardwood in the living room and stairs still look great but the painter has to return to take out the railing that is screwed into the wall so that the new fridge can have room to be delivered.

Three weeks later, our kitchen remains a disaster.  I am not a happy camper.  But things could have been worse, I guess.  And by the way, that saying annoys me. Yeah. I am fully aware that things could be worse.  However, I’m getting too old to pump sunshine up my ass and I just want this done. Yes. I sound like a cranky old lady and in this regard, I am. But–shit happens and I am well-aware of that!

I think this is what bothers me the most. The bottom shelves of the pantry had to be cleared and now it is all on the counter.

The other good thing about this is that because we’re heading out to L.A. for Christmas, we decided to not go to France this summer.  Could you imagine if this happened while we were in France?  The damage would have been a lot worse.

I was fine with the mess from laying down the living room floor because it was not about damage.  But damage is a whole ‘nuther story!

You know, my parents had the same fridge for decades.  From the late 1950’s when we moved from Ozone Park in Queens out to Long Island, that fridge was nothing special. It had no water dispenser nor did it make ice. We made ice in the freezer in ice cube trays. Then we moved within our town to a larger house and my parents purchased a larger fridge. Avocado green.  The other fridge went into the garage for the overflow of food.  The green fridge was nothing special either.  We continued to make ice cubes in ice cube trays. We also continued to get water from the kitchen faucet.  And we never, ever experienced fridge leaks.

The avocado fridge. Nothing special. Doesn’t make water and ice is made in trays.  We need to have more appliances like this these days!

Hmmmmm. Apparently one can still purchase these trays. Remember the days of using these?

Anyway, that’s it. That is why I haven’t written my post about shoes.  I will give you a hint though.  I can no longer wear heels.  It has nothing to do with health reasons but has everything to do with comfort.  And I am not wearing ugly shoes.  Stay tuned!

At least the sunroom still looks good–even with the mat that was under the fridge in the way!

Crazy at it might seem, the subject matter has been rolling around in the empty space between my ears for a while now.  Not a long while but just about as long as I switched out my winter clothing for the lighter ones.

Yes. I think.  Therefore I am (but not the brightest bulb in the house)

‘Tis an odd thing, it is.  But I’ve changed my mindset about clothing. It could be a mixture of age, a changing body, not working in corporate anymore and the ultimate desire to be comfortable; and this mélange of reasons have me questioning fashion as we know it.

I’ve been through corporate, unemployment, back to corporate, back to unemployment and for almost three years, I’ve been working at a state hospital where the lack of dress code has been mind-boggling.

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My former corporate attire. I can’t even fit this over my thighs anymore.  Do I miss dressing like this?  Well, not really.  I’m all about comfort now!

In the past I’ve shared some pretty nice ensembles with you.  My favorite outfits for winter. Summer. Travel. But lacking in the at-home wear because at home wear is usually a pair of Old Navy pajamas that I refer to as “lounge wear”.  But we all know what lounge wear is anyway.  Am I right?

These have gone from being called “pajamas” into now being named “At Home”  clothing and “Loungewear”.  And no, I will never wear this ensemble at the airport nor on a plane because, thruthfully, they are pajamas!

My current work wardrobe consists of various pairs of pants with sweaters or tee shirts and in the summer shirts with built-in bras.  The change was gradual.  When I started, I wore dresses and skirts. And when I discovered I was the only one dressing that way, my wardrobe started to lean more to, not business casual, but casual casual.   Summer is an exception because the A/C never works in my office so I stick to sundresses and maxi dresses.

A current work outfit when I feel like REALLY dressing up these days!

And here’s the thing.  My body has changed.  If you peruse the internet and printed articles in magazines, you’ll read all about women going through menopause and how their bodies have changed.   Well, me, being the late bloomer, I always have been, didn’t go through those body changes until well after menopause.  My cups runneth over with side boobage.   My belly started to really belly.  In fact, my belly has a life of her own.  My thighs got flabbier. My turkey neck decided to turn into a folding pile of crepe paper.  And my arms they got a bit flabby too.

Well, MY cups runneth over with side boobage.  And a belly.  And flabbier thighs. And……

Allow me to admit that my propensity for laziness is also at fault here because I don’t exercise.  I’m at a desk.  At a computer. All day.  I come home and want to relax.  When I get depressed, my lazy nature becomes epic.  When I am not depressed, my laziness is still lazy.  I refuse to pay for a gym membership because I’ll go for a week then will stop.  Besides—gyms smell—and I will die on that hill.   I’ve said it before and will continue to say it: when I lived in NYC, I was in the best shape of my life.  I walked everywhere.  And the walking did a world of wonders for my body and mind.

This would be me after I return home from work. I miss active me.

The suburbs are different.  I abhor walking around here.  It is extremely boring. And I will leave it at that because if you don’t have anything nice to say…………….

And comfort.   I want to be comfortable these days. No tight waistbands digging into my gut.  No constantly adjusting falling bra straps.  No more heels.  I just cannot go long periods wearing them anymore.  But the thing is, I still want to look good. I want to wear clothing that checks the comfort boxes and style (as a noun not as a verb) boxes.  In addition, I do not want to be that delusional older woman who is dressing to be her 16-year-old self again.

So, after researching and going through tubs of clothing in the garage, I found the perfect solution.  Linen, linen-adjacent, cotton and fabrics that are light enough for the warmer months but can be layered for the colder months.  Yeah.  I also want a three-season wardrobe.  Lugging clothing up and down stairs for storage is exhausting albeit the only exercise I get.

It IS about comfort these days. I wore this to NYC two weeks ago. Comfortable and simple but stylish.  Truth be told I haven’t worn this since because the weather decided to step back into winter!

I took a very realistic look at my clothing.  Especially those in the tubs.  Many of which did not fit anymore but I was holding onto them like Miss Havesham was holding on to her lost love memories. The reality was those clothes will most likely never fit me again—they have been hidden away for years.  And I donated them. I can’t deal with reselling them because I can’t deal with people who would ever want a refund.  Donating is my groove.

In a weird way, I love Miss Havisham. She’s looking back at long-lost love and hoping it’ll return.  I’m no longer looking back at long-lost sizing from my old clothing.  It ain’t returning!

Then I assessed what kinds of clothing I did like. Truth be told, I liked those linen and linen-blend wide legged pants I have had but barely wore.  I tried them on.  They looked good.  Very good.  I liked the elastic waistband. It stretched.  Yeah, my belly didn’t shrink but it didn’t look that bad with the right clothes.  In fact, from the front I appear leaner than from the side view!  Tops came next.  I love an airy, oversized button down, gauzy/linen shirt—but my tits get in the way of buttoning without bunching.  I changed bras.  Instead of a padded bra, I took my light, non-padded, bralettes out of hibernation.  Suddenly the shirts looked much better.

These Old Navy Pants and top from about three years ago were rarely worn. I’m glad I held on because now, I love them.   The only thing with Old Navy, as well as other brands is inconsistant sizing.  

I did the tuck with other shirts and I like the way it looks.  I purchased a few items from Quince and some from OGL Move.  OGL Move offers tops with built-in bras. Who wouldn’t love that?

I purchased this dress on a deep sale last summer from OGL.  It’s fully lined AND the pockets have zippers, making this a perfect dress to go shopping and stick your money or bank cards in the zippered pockets.  The pockets run deep so car keys will fit in there too.  My belly stick outs but at this point in my life, I don’t care. It is what it is.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still have my summer maxi dresses from Lilly Pulitzer and more dresses.

One of my maxi dresses from Lilly Pulitzer, I wore this to my son and daughter-in-law’s rehearsal dinner last August.

I love the high neckline on this Lilly dress because it hides my turkey neck.  I eagerly look forward to the weather warming up so I can wear this and I can skip shaving my legs!

And I still have this madras dress waiting for the heat to arrive. 

My favorite summer ensemble is a skirt and top with built-in bra that I practically lived in last summer and I purchased another one for this year.  I can wear them well into autumn with a blazer or sweater.

Shoes?  My ballet flats have served me well over the years and continue to do so.  Over the winter I discovered another brand of flat, pointy-toed shoes—C. Paravano and one can get them on eBay for 1/3 the price.  The shoes fit my feet well. And are great for spring and autumn.  Once the weather gets hot, my Rondini sandals will be my everyday shoes.

I practically live in my Rondini sandals during the summer. But I have to say, my new favorite shoe brand is C. Paravano.  The shoes are incredibly comfortable!

Let me show you how these most comfortable items look on me:

Below is the OGL Move two-piece skirt and Brami top.  What I absolutely love about OGL is that you have a choice for sizing in the brand’s two-piece sets.  For the Brami tops with the built-in bra, I wear a Medium but for my bottoms, I wear a Large.  I will tell you, though, that for this particular set, there isn’t a huge difference between the M and L for the skirt. In the first two pics I’m wearing a Medium skirt and the far right a Large. It’s mostly that the length is longer in the large.

These sets by OGL are wonderful. I wore this outfit constantly last summer.

Here it is in black. M top, L skirt.   I freaking LOVE this outfit!

OGL has travel pant sets as well, Sort of like sweatshirt material, but not. I have it in black (below) and ordered another one in brown.  The comfort level is astounding!  These are GREAT for travel.  The pants are a perfect length. In fall, you can layer with a cardigan or light jacket.

Here’s the OGL travel set. Pants are a size L. Top a Medium.  At first I ordered a Large top buy the armholes were incredibly huge. I  am donating the large top, along with other clothing that doesn’t fit me (because the clothes are too small) to the women patients at the hospital. They need clothing for when they are released to community housing.

Bottoms are Old Navy. Size Medium. I find these wide-leg pants have generous sizing.  The top is from Quince. I’m enjoying these sleeveless linen tops because they are loose but not sloppy looking.

More Old Navy Pants from a few years back that went unworn and Quince top. I like this top better tucked. It looks neater.  The Quince tops are all large. Some of Quince’s tops tend to run on the smaller side.

Quince pants are a different story.  I have two pair of the European Linen pants pictured below. Navy and white.  I ordered Large and they are slightly loose around the waist and backside.  It’s apparent that I’m in between sizes with Quince as far as pants are concerned.  I’ll elaborate further a bit down in the post.

This top is also by Quince. It’s the cropped linen shirt.  I love this length with higher-waisted bottoms.  It’s airy and extermely comfortable.  The bottoms are the 100% European Linen Pants. The length falls just above the ankles and I love that length.

Here’s the white pants. In first photo I am wearing the pants with an Old Navy cropped linen-blend top from a few years ago. I belted with a suede ribbon belt from Gretchen Scott–also from a few years ago.  Second pic wearing with the Linen crop top from Quince and in the third Quince’s Linen tank. I’m not crazy about how the tank top looks with this–it looks sloppy. The top would look much better with my J. Crew pixie pants.

Here’s the thing about Quince’s sizing. I decided to order these wide-leg, drawstring linen pants in Medium.  They were too tight around the waist and hips.  The remedy?  I washed them, no dryer–and stretched the waist and hips. That’s the great thing about linen. It can be stretched out if need be.  I stretched them out, ironed them and now they fit fine.  

Sizing can be daunting.  Bodies change as we age–no doubt about it. Many of us become softer and wider and that’s fine.  The issue lies in finding the right fit.  Being in between sizes can be more daunting but the question remains: Would you rather have a snug size or a larger size?  For me, in bottoms, the larger size is far more important because comfort is first. Don’t get me wrong–I don’t want to be swimming in bottoms or running the chance of my pants falling down. I still want to look nice but comfortable without looking frumpy.  And wrinkles in clothes, especially linen are fine. I like my clothing the way I like my face–wrinkled!

This outfit is a favorite.  Old Navy pants, the Medium is very body-friendly. Very generous sizing. The shirt? Purchased in France last summer from H & M. I love the way this looks. Perfect for work or going out. 

One thing I want to add about the shirt pictured above. For years I didn’t feel comfortable wearing button-down shirts.  The chest area always buckled because of my bra and even with larger sizing, the shirts were too stiff or just ..I dunno, just not right.  This shirt from H & M changed me.  It’s oversized but not ridiculously so. The fabric is so lightweight and drapes so well over the chest area–there is no buckling at all. It is a pleasure to wear.

This ensemble will get me from now until late autumn. It is truly three-season.  The cotton cashmere crew neck sweater is from Quince. Size Large and the fit is stellar.  The pants were on sale at Gretchen Scott designs.  I love the pattern and with ballet flats looks so casual chic!

Something about Gretchen Scott designs. Her gripeless pull-on pants are fantastic. I have a few pair going back and the fit is very generous. The pants pictured are a medium. The length hits at the ankle. The pants are extremely comfortable and wash nicely.  The odd thing about this brand is I never see any reviews and I can’t understand why  The other thing about Gretchen Scott is the pricing.  I think, for the most part, the clothing is expensive but the sales are phenomenal.

Lastly, shorts.  i will wear a maxi dress before I don a pair of shorts. However, sometimes here in the Northeast/Mid-Atlantic area, July, August, and September are humid. VERY humid. And hot. That’s where the shorts come in. I’m wearing the tan shorts with a vest and the black ones with a cropped top. Both are higher-waisted and even though the same size, I like the way the black pair fits better.

My legs are heavier and now resemble crepe paper. I need to fake tan because I can’t stand my fish-belly hued legs.  Both of these shorts are from Quince. size Large.  They will be prefect for heading to the beach or running errands during the summer. In fact, I will most likely wear them to work because the hospital has the A/C on in winter and the heat in summer. I kid you not.

We’re always changing, aren’t we?  My style will always be very basic and classic but these days I’ve become less fussy and just want to reach for comfort.  What say you?  ( I can’t believe I just wrote that–that’s such an old-person thing to say).  Are you into comfort these days?  Are you more of a fashionista?  I’m very curious!

If you may recall, last year for my 70^th birthday, my kids treated us to a weekend at the Chelsea Hotel in NYC—complete with all meals out and a Broadway Play. It was, hands down, the greatest weekend ever!  If you hadn’t read it, here’s a link:  My 70^th Birthday in NYC.

This year, my husband took me into the City for my 71^st birthday and I’m thinking it may be a new tradition.

We started out early Saturday morning.  The sun was with us but it was a bit on the cooler side. I packed very lightly—wore linen pants and a shirt (which would suffice for Sunday as well) and a black dress for our dinner at Le Coucou in Soho. Check in time at the hotel (more about that in a little bit) was 4:00 PM and so we decided to drive up to Nyack to visit Vincent’s maternal grandfather’s grave.

Linen blend pants from last year or the year before–Old Navy. The shirt? H & M in France. Last year. I love it.

Comfortable shoes, vintage LV bag and a duffle are all I needed. This outfit would suffice for Sunday as well!

In the car and we’re off!

The drive was incredibly pleasant.  No traffic—which is rare on a Saturday.

Luckily, we didn’t even have to cross the GW!  We headed straight for the Palisades!

We followed our route along the Palisades up to the exit in New York that would lead us to, quite possibly, one of the most charming towns in the Hudson Valley—Nyack!  Vincent’s grandfather moved there after WW2.  He had a job doing illustrations for various companies and he was quite happy.  He lived in a rather large house and Vincent, his mother, and his sister lived there for a couple of years after his parents split.   Although Vincent doesn’t have many memories of that time, the ones he does have are good ones.  He loved the house and loved living in the town. It’s an artsy community and I could easily see us living there—except the 2026 housing prices are a lot pricier than when Vincent was a child.

How beautiful is this old house?  It’s where Vincent’s grandfather lived after he arrived in the States and Vincent lived here for a couple of years as a very young child!

A simple headstone for a not-so-simple man.  Andre Girard was an artist and founded CARTE during WW2–he worked for the resistance. Click his name to read more about him.

As the day went on, the weather became wonderfully warmer.  That spring day when the temperature isn’t hot yet but you are well-aware that winter has bid adieu.   I suggested that we take the Tappan Zee bridge instead of the George Washington because:

The Tappan Zee bridge from a distance looks like a cluster of sails–it is so freaking beautiful!

A. Bridge traffic on the GW is always a pain.  B. The Tap is cheaper.  C.  The drive into the City from the Tap is more fun.  It has been decades since I was on this bridge and it is a beautiful drive across the Hudson.  At some point it was practically rebuilt because when I was growing up, it didn’t look as grand as it is now.

This is one gorgeous bridge!

As we made our way into the city, we passed Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow and parts of the Bronx that brought fond memories to me.  And even as we drove downtown, traffic wasn’t bad.

My husband did a thing. To make our way downtown even less traffic-ridden, we drove through the piers!  Check this Norweigan dinghy out!  It was massive!

We also drove by some sort of filming going on. A movie?  TV show? Commercial? Narcissistic Influencer?

This time around we stayed at the Renaissance Hotel, part of the Marriott chain.  It was very different than the Hotel Chelsea.   This is the hotel where my son, Jake, stays when he’s in New York on business.  My daughter Oona stays there on business trips as well.  But before I go into my mini-review of our stay at the hotel, I have to tell you—we got street parking three blocks away.  Street Parking.  Note:  If you are driving into New York City for a weekend, free parking is available in residential areas on Saturday and Sunday.  And it saves a good amount of money!

The Marriott Renaissance in Chelsea.  (I give photo credit to TripAdvisor because I didn’t take a photo)

Okay. Back to the hotel.  Now, when my husband made the reservation, there may have been a “lost in translation” moment because he apparently reserved a single room. Not a big deal nor a deal breaker because the bed was big enough for the two of us.

So, we headed up to the room and at first glance, it was really nice. Very streamlined.  Very monochromatic.  The view was incredible! For me, it was all about the view.   And as we looked around, we both noticed the lack of bright lighting.  Look—I’m not wanting lights so bright that I need sunglasses, and I realize that subdued lighting can be soothing.  However, there comes a point in one’s aging life that you need slightly brighter light to function! Meaning, to see.  Honestly, the hotels in Paris have brighter lighting.

Check out that view–huh?  Now THAT’S a view I can live with–even if only for a weekend!

One thing about Marriott Hotels–the beds are always incredibly comfortable.  And this was no exception. Total comfort and even though a single room, the bed was large enough for the two of us!

Then there was the bathroom.  Very nice.  But when I saw only a shower and no bathtub I was slightly put off.  Not put off enough to create a “moment” because I was just grateful and happy to even be back in New York.   Then I looked around some more.  There were no little essentials such as little body lotions or shower caps or Q-tips.  Granted, there was body gel and shampoo attached to a wall shelf in the shower stall but—no shower cap when you have a shower and no bathtub? I thought for the price of a hotel in NYC, that was downright cheap.

What can I say?  The bathroom was on the small side, no bathtub but no extras.  Do your duty and get off the throne

Looking around some more, I opened the closet and realized there were no robes. What is this?  A roadside inn? I love hotel robes. After a shower or, preferably, bath, the robe is such a cozy and luxurious item to wrap your body in and they make you feel a bit special—like at a spa.  And because Vincent never travels without it, he brought Champagne from home for our before-dinner aperitif.  We found a small ice bucket and I called the front desk to see where on our floor the ice machine was.  There was no ice machine and I was told someone would come to our room with said ice.  In the meantime, my husband left his dinner jacket in the car so he went off to get it.

Yes. I like my hotels to have robes so I can be treated as though I am at a spa. No Robe? No spa queen!

A couple of minutes later, one of the staffers arrived with my ice. In a thin plastic bag.  I tipped a five and he was incredibly appreciative (and I’m thinking—doesn’t every tip these guys?).   So off I went to place the large bottle of Champagne into the little ice bucket and proceeded to fill it with the large amount of ice.  I had to laugh because in my extreme clumsiness, I kept dropping ice cubes on the floor then as I picked them up, more ice would fall from the bag.  In the end—the bottle was firmly ensconced in a bed of ice and chilled beautifully!

Yeah. My biggest fear was that my clumsiness would have the ice melting because my aim into the ice bucket was that bad!

Allow me to say this—If we were younger, let’s say between our twenties through forties, we would have gotten dressed for dinner, and at the hours preceding sour journey to dinner, we would have hopped or skipped or gaily sprinted to a nearby bar for our aperitif. If the bar was crowded—who cares? Noisy?  Like music to my younger ears. But now, we’re older and aged out of that scene.

Honestly, a crowd of twenty-five people looks this big to me these days!

Aperitif time for us was quiet time in the hotel room, before getting dressed for dinner.  Relaxing in front of the view from the window and having conversation that allowed us to hear what we were saying to each other.  And the older I get, the more I like those times.

Our conversation centered around the price of New York hotel rooms vs. Paris hotel rooms.  Paris won because of better pricing and bathroom amenities.  Oh yeah, and robes and slippers. Yes. This is what old people do. They compare stuff. From groceries to hotels to anything that pops into the still functioning mind!

We got dressed, ordered an Uber to take us down to Le Coucou and enjoyed the ride through the Village down to Soho.  The first time either of us were at Le Coucou was my birthday one year ago and the dinner was spectacular.  This year, it was just as good.

Dressed and ready to go.  I don’t know why I made that face but I love the black dress!  My husband cuts quite the suave figure!

All dressed up with a hanging bra strap. Now that’s classy!

The only “con” so to speak was the price of a bottle of wine.  According to my personal French Sommelier, aka, my husband, the wine was ridiculously overpriced so we went with a glass of wine instead.  It was good too because I didn’t get acid reflux from it!

This is a pretty pricey wine list but by the glass, it’s fine!

The food. Wow. The food was incredible. I started off with quail and it was wonderfully crispy and delicious.  Vincent had the leeks with hazelnuts, which he enjoyed but after seeing my quail, he regretted his choice.

The quail was excellent. I don’t know how the chef did this!

I’m a fan of leeks. And of hazelnuts. And Vincent enjoyed this but was regretful for not ordering the quail. And I did NOT let him have a taste of mine!

Main plate?  He had his usual filet mignon while I had sweetbreads.   I’m telling you, if you find yourself in NYC, having dinner at Le Coucou, by all means, try the sweetbreads.  They were crisp on the outside, creamy on the inside and I was in food heaven!  The sauce was so outstanding and I couldn’t stop raving about it.  It was that good.  Finally, the Matre’d gifted me with a plastic container of this liquid gold.  It is now resting in our fridge and I’m figuring out how to duplicate it.

The meat was melt-in-your-mouth and the bonus was bone marrow. Vincent did not give me a taste of the bone marrow!

My sweetbreads were “offally” delicious!

In fact, the sauce was so incredible that as I write this post, I am preparing to make sweetbreads and figure out the sauce for dinner tonight!

Dessert was spot on too.  I had the Marjolaine and it was a perfect portion.  Vincent had the Ile Flotante which, he loved but did manage to say that mine was better.  He’s such a nice man!

What a nice birthday surprise! And that one candle made me feel so youthful! Vincent’s favorite dessert was spot on!

We Ubered back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep because it would be a busy Sunday.  Roman would come to meet us for brunch then we would all head to the Museum of Modern Art.

The night sky illuminated by the buildings–a hint of a fog afar. NYC at night is astounding!

Ok! Sunday morning.  Vincent, who is as obsessed with parking spaces as I am, decided to walk the three blocks to our car and look for a spot closer to the hotel.  Trust me this is normal behavior for any human being who has lived in a city.   And didn’t he manage to snag one right in front of the hotel! Now that’s lucky! That is one of the successes of life!

Roman met us and we really didn’t have any set plans on where to have brunch.  We approached the in-house restaurant at the hotel to see if they had space for three.  Instead of charging our room, I inquired about just paying as we had taken care of the bill.  I was told brunch was a buffet and the cost was $48 per person.   Sorry not sorry.  My son was treating us and that price was absolutely insane—especially for a buffet.

Then Roman remembered a sports bar/pub down the street.  Smithfield Hall.  When Jake is in town he and Roman often go there.  And, there was an important soccer aka “fewtbawl” game that both guys wanted to watch and I was all about it.

Smithfield Hall is that neighborhood bar/pub everyone needs. At 11:00 AM, the place had a great crowd.  TV screens lined the back bar and people were sitting enjoying lager, food, and the game!   Roman had the Irish Breakfast and was very fond of the blood sausage.  I figured, what the hell, and went for the breakfast burger.  A burger topped with cheese, bacon and an egg.  It was so juicy that I had to eat it with a knife and fork.  The coffee was excellent—nice and so strong it would put hair on your chest!  Vincent ate most of my fries.

TV screens lined the entire back of the bar area. No time for pics during an intense football game!

Then it was off for the drive up to midtown to the museum.  There’s a parking lot directly across from MOMA which was practicality at its best.   A typical Sunday in the City means a crowded museum.  MOMA handles the crowds so efficiently.  The wait to get in was less than five minutes.  Now, MOMA isn’t my favorite museum because I prefer a more classical form of art; however, the museum houses two of Jacques-Henri Lartigue’s photographs.  It was fun to see them.  Then we made our way to the Marcel Deschamps exhibit which was quite interesting.

Photos for MOMA a gift from Vincent’s grandfather!

And a proud grandson!

More wandering around and admiring some of the works.  In the meantime, the crowds grew and it was time to leave. These days, I just can’t deal with crowds. It’s difficult to figure out because when I was younger, I was a very social butterfly.  Now I am more of a misanthropic cockroach!  We did pick up a book with Vincent’s grandfather’s photos which was nice. I picked up a couple of notebooks and we were back out on the street.

Entrance to the Marcel Deschamps exhibit. It was a pretty big deal.

Picked up some goodies!

My favorite modern art?  The Sabrett Hot Dog umbrellas.  My favorite hot dogs? NYC dirty water hot dogs. True culinary art!

I think traveling, whether domestic or internationally is a completely different mindset for many of us as we age.  What are your thoughts on this?

We exited the museum and Roman headed for the subway as we headed to retrieve the car.  It was a wonderful weekend!

And the rain held off until we got in the car to go home. Thank you Mother Nature!

A weekend in the City is always a good thing—whether a special occasion or a “just because” weekend.  Hope Birthday 2027 is as enjoyable!

As I write this, it is almost two weeks into daylight savings time 2026.  My body is getting used to the fact I need another hour’s sleep because I keep waking up at the old 5:00 AM to get ready for work as opposed to the new 5:00 AM.   So basically, I’m waking up at 4:00 AM—an hour earlier, and I can’t get back to sleep.  Cabish?

Thank God for makeup or else this is what I would look like all day due to time change tiredness!

It’s also the time of day when the sun begins a slower descent; reminding us that the days are beginning to get longer.  And, instead of the dark afternoon shadows, the sun is shining in an almost blindingly manner after 5:30 PM.

and the sun sets later and later and later until that first day of summer.

Two weeks ago, we experienced “Fake Spring”.  Those teaser days just before the exit of winter—which makes me wonder, will winter leave us with a quiet Irish exit, or will the coldest season leave us by dropping a wintery mix which some will see as a setback.  The rage bait, if you will, of Mother Nature.

Dear Mother Nature.   I know you are angry due to climate change–so am I, but don’t punish us with teaser days!

The past week has brought humanity out from hibernation. I think because the new season is full of frustration from being pent up indoors—baseball has opening day.  Extracurricular sports are played outside. People are planning their annual plantings for lawns and patios.  More people are spotted, weather temp regardless, in shorts and flip-flops (which I personally save for summer) Much to my chagrin, traffic on the road has gotten worse as well.  Men, thinking they are the greatest things since restaurant-style tortilla chips are taking part in topless afternoon runs.  Keep the shirt on fella.  Your hairy gut is proof that tee shirts were made for you.  Young mothers out with babies in strollers.  School children getting off the bus with a hop to their step and laughing because they know that homework might wait until later.  It isn’t quite yet the gardening moment despite buying bulbs and plantings and the like, but it’s just nice to be outdoors.

Traffic going home from work has increased since winter.  Wait till summer when the Shore traffic hits.  I do not like this.

Even me, as lazy as I am, weather permitting, leave the hospital during lunch to take a stroll around the campus.  We’re on the edge of a county park filled with streams and brooks and it’s just lovely.  My warm-weather walks during lunch are something I look forward to when the cold, windy, biting weather leaves and the warmth of the sun gets closer.   It is my me time.  To be alone. To not have to talk to anyone nor hear anyone.  The sounds I hear are the wheels of bikes on the pavement, the breathing of runners who look miserable while being healthier, and the sounds of birds rustling in soon-to-be leavy trees. Sadly, the past few days have been too windy, and my eyes are incredibly sensitive, so I’ve had to stay in.

I LOVE my walks around the hospital campus.  Sadly, I had only two days to do so since Spring arrived.  And the forecast this week is rain!

And I take advantage of this weather.  For now.  Because I know that next week the Fahrenheit will plummet to the thirties, it could snow or worse—a wintery mix could be bestowed upon us.

In welcoming this new season, we finally took the Christmas trees down, and, when it gets a bit warmer, will tackle the garage.  Spring cleaning.  Purging.  Getting rid of accumulated stuff we haven’t needed for years.  Stuff that I asked the kids if they wanted and, with clear and concise answers, all said “NO” (You know as soon as the stuff is gone, they will be asking “You know that……. from years ago—do you still have it?)

Our next project is purging the garage.  Clothes that no longer fit.  Old holiday stuff that has seen better days.  Suitcases we don’t use.  So much stuff.  We will probably get a junk collector to help us!

But something in my person has shifted.  Could it be I’ve aged out of spring and summer?  Is it possible, I no longer care and want only late autumn and winter back—all year?

With my recent semi-annual skin check, and the stress that goes along with it, I just want to be healthy.  The dermatologist gave me an “A-Okay” for the next six months. But this year, I don’t want to spend hours upon hours in the sun.  I don’t care about lolling about on a blanket at the beach every weekend (But I do care about having a fake tan.  I love tanned legs)—without sounding hypocritical, I do look forward to beaching time this summer but not obsessively.

Not to be a hypocrite but, I still look forward to going to the beach but more to read and less to bake.

Maybe it’s my age.  My soon-to-be 71 years on earth, is tired of the longest days.  Those late spring-into-summer ones where there is no set boundary between day and night.  It was different when the kids were younger.  Late nights in the backyard while m children, and the neighborhood kids played Manhunt and Capture the Flag.  Those nights catching fireflies.  Those hot nights listening to the symphonic cadence of crickets and cicadas.  Those nights of wishing they would never end.

But they did end.  The children grew into adulthood.  They moved away with lucrative careers and families.  And now it’s their time.  History repeats itself and the cycle goes on.

I’m acquiring a renewed fondness for skeletal trees–it’s a winter vibe!

The seasons are shifting for me in my older years.  These days, I prefer the sun bidding a fond adieu as late afternoon turns into darkness.  It separates the days into night.  Although I am not an ambitious person and would rather not work, my job gives me a much-needed routine. My husband and I have a set time for weeknight dinners.  And that routine includes watching Jeopardy at precisely 7:00 PM.  Lights out at 10.  Slumber comes easily.

Our highlights are visiting the kids and grandkids, heading into NYC, and traveling to Paris. So far, our year is planned.  Heading to California in summer for a family event, having family visit before Thanksgiving and hosting a “Pre-Thanksgiving” dinner, leaving for Paris at November’s end, then out to California for Christmas.  I’m already planning our pre-Thanksgiving dinner.  These are the things to look forward to.

Already planning Thanksgiving desserts like this pecan pie that I made some years back when I hosted Thanksgiving!

Don’t get me wrong.  I like the spring season.  In the morning, I enjoy hearing the chirping of birds that have arrived back from the South.  I love the ever-so-gentle sprinkling of green that the buds on the trees are gifting us with.  I love the comfort, finally, of driving barefoot due to the warmer temperatures.  And I appreciate the fact I don’t need a cumbersome, heavy coat when I venture outside.  The best part is not having to drive in the dawn’s darkness to work.   These are all pluses.

It’s just that at this point; I have a new admiration for Winter.  Those cold days where I can be comfy and cozy in the warmth of our home, relaxing on the sofa reading a book and listening to music is what I enjoy.  Being in bed with blankets and comforters in a cocoon like fashion.  A hot cup of tea or cocoa on a weekend afternoon.  Looking out the window at the first snowfall watching the flakes fall on the ground to make a soft, silent blanket of white.  The holidays.

I just want to loll on the sofa with a good book…or..

…the sunroom–with a nice hot beverage!

That said, Autumn remains my least-favorite season simply because summer lingers well into October.  October remains balmy.  Cool mornings and heat in the afternoon.  It doesn’t really begin to chill until November—giving us a window of one month before the return of winter.  And I can’t stand pumpkin spice.  It’s vile!

Pumpkin spice belongs only in pumpkin pie.

What are your opinions?  Have you changed your seasonal outlook as you’ve gotten older?  Will you forever be coastal grandparents?  Or will you be the modern version of Santa and Mrs. Claus?  I would love to know!

Or don’t go on thousand-dollar shopping hauls.  Or don’t live in a designer-quality home.  In fact, don’t hate me at all….

No. Buying all this won’t make you perfect and don’t even watch videos from influencers who showcase this sort of video.

Remember those ads—Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful?  Well, if you do, then you are old and have a very good idea of what real beauty looks like.  In the case of the ads, nobody hates these women.  Due to the 1980’s hair styles, though, it’s acceptable to “hate” 1980’s hair.

Kelly Lebrock in a Pantene ad from the 1980’s.  Kelly, I can assure you nobody hated you because you are beautiful.

When did society become so hung up on being perfect?  Honest to God, I’ve been spending less time on social media these days because of a few reasons—mostly because our political situation has triggered me to the point of medication.  But it isn’t only politics.  It’s the bullshit of grifters.  The allure of trying to be perfect in every way.

Perfect from your face to your body.  Perfect in your home.  Perfect in every way.  It’s boring and underwhelming.  And expensive.

Allow me to express my thoughts:

Back in the 1970’s beauty and perfection were not perfect.  Do you remember the actress, Karen Black?  Her eyes were a bit wonky, and I, as a cross-eyed individual, absolutely loved that she was not perfect, yet she was unique in her beauty.

Karen Black. A true unique beauty.  By today’s standards, social media would have the trolls and haters out. Her eyes always made me feel so good about myself.

Remember the great Lauren Hutton?  The model’s model?  She had that incredible gap between her teeth and, yeah, to add to her attractiveness, she had a lazy eye.  I would say that I was in good company!    These women were natural and individualistic beauties.  And that was welcomed back then.

I don’t think there has ever been a model as naturally beautiful as Lauren Hutton.  Her imperfections were her trademark.

Plastic surgery was basically unheard of .  No hemorrhoid lips or floating-device titties back then.  Natural was in.

The funny thing about this SNL sketch is more and more actors are looking like this version of Will Ferrell these days (Bradley Cooper–are you reading this?)

Can you imagine what Disney’s Cinderella would have to go through today? Oh those lips! Proof perfect ain’t perfect!

Now we have filters—in ads.  In videos.  And it remains to be false advertising.  The Il Makiage ads are disgustingly false.  No foundation is going to take your wrinkles away.  No foundation is going to erase imperfections.  And if you believe it is, then I got a bridge to sell ya.

Makeup should be used to enhance your features and slightly cover up, but not take away, skin imperfections—not making you perfect but making you a better image of yourself.

This is the most misleading crock of shit. Look at this “mature” woman’s skin. It’s normal older woman skin. She’s attractive.  She looks fine. She even has turkey neck as we all do with aging.

Look again my dears.  Look AFTER she applies this magic foundation that actually filters her!  Her wrinkles are gone.  She’s blurry–and the wrinkles in her neck are gone.  Why…she’s….she’s….she’s PERFECT–and all thanks to the foundation!

And bodies.  I’m sure you are familiar with The Osbourne family.  Kelly, the younger daughter of the children, in her young days was a bit on the plump side and there is nothing wrong with that. The online abuse she took must have been horrific for a young girl.  When she got older she lost some weight and looked absolutely beautiful.  She was a unique beauty who marched to the beat of her own drum and I loved her for that.

Credit where it is due, this photo of Kelly Osbourne from Bridgeman Images is gorgeous. She had a wonderfully normal body and she grew up to be a very unique body–her hair color is wonderfully suited to her personality.

After her dad, Ozzy’s, passing, she went into a serious period of grieving.  I get that. Losing a parent is horrible and we all have our ways to deal with it.  But there is something sad about this woman’s appearance.  I cannot bring myself to post a picture of her body because it is too triggering and just too disturbing.  However, here is how her face has changed.  It isn’t the same one as years ago.  Her hooded eyes of youth weren’t perfect but they were her. She was absolutely adorable.  Her features are different.  Is this because she is in grief or wanting to be today’s standard of perfect beauty?

It’s hard to come to terms with this being the same adorable woman.  I hope the 2026 photo isn’t because of wanting to keep up with today’s version of perfect.

Don’t even get me started on home perfection.  The onset of home influencers has me wishing that 2026 is the end of them.  And brands should know better.  Brands need to focus on their product and not some grifter to shill their wares.

Many would view this as contemporary perfection.  It’s clean and nice–I’ll give it that much but I prefer a less perfect, more lived-in look!

Growing up, home décor wasn’t a priority in our house.  With five kids, tuition for Catholic school, sports and other extra-curricular activities, the focus was on my mother’s obsession with clean clothing, three well-rounded meals a day (and not the processed meals), and a clean house.  In her eyes, perfection was polished hardwood floors and cleaning the sink edges with a toothpick (something I do to this day).

We had avocado-colored appliances in the kitchen, and foam-cushioned sofas in the family room because we weren’t allowed on the “good” furniture in the living room.  And that’s how many families lived.  Nobody tried to outdo each other.  There was no “aesthetic”.  Either you had a “nice” house or an untidy one.

Ahh. Memories of that “perfect” avacado kitchen from growing up!

Unless your parents were trained chef’s or sophisticated adults, the spice rack contained three items:  salt, pepper and Accent.  Maybe cinnamon during the holidays.  There were no overpriced “organizers” filling the pantry.  Pantries were made for children to go on scavenger hunts—like when our moms told us to go to the pantry for a can of tomato paste and we had to peruse every shelf, behind jars and tubes and other items for that small can of paste.  It was a challenge and we felt like we had superpowers for merely surviving that trip into the cave of an unorganized mess! It was fun and an object lesson for adulthood in doing research when we grew up and had jobs.

These days, I’m the only one who gets lost in this small pantry.  No matter how much I organize it, two days later it’s a mess. I am not ashamed because it brings back fun childhood memories of being lost in my mother’s walk-in pantry!

I find myself obsessed with little videos of people cleaning and organizing their homes into perfection.  Do these people cook a meal, or do they live on the ready-made, processed meals that are delivered to their door?  Do they take the time to plop down on a cushiony sofa and love seat to read a book or watch a TV show?  WTF are they doing vacuuming their garbage cans, organizing their refrigerator, and pontificating their dwelling’s wellness?

My house will never look this organized. I like having “stuff”.  Speaking of organized.

Speaking of organized, I  am a huge fan of Operation Niki’s videos on cleaning and organizing.  I watch her clean instead of doing it myself.  And by the end of her videos, I’m tired from all that cleaning and perfection!

I love Niki!  Her voice is so soothing and it calms me down.  But I do become exhausted after watching her videos. I don’t know how she does it!

Our dwelling’s wellness is making sure we have room spray for the bathroom, and the heat is working during the winter and in summer, the air-conditioning is keeping us cool in the humidity and heat of the Mid-Atlantic.

I’m a big fan–not that my…you know…doesn’t stink but spraying this gives off a guiltless scent!

We also have fake Christmas trees so that our house isn’t bothered by random fir needles popping up throughout the year.  That is our home wellness.

The “big” tree in the living room.

In my ever-imperfect way, we finally took the Christmas trees down last Saturday.  And there will be no random pine or fir needles!

Our individual wellness?  It isn’t having state-of-the-art exercise equipment (even if there was room) in our downstairs family room.  It’s me going to the Ob/gyn in January for my annual lady-parts exam, a mammogram in February for my girls to be squished like two crepes, and in March, my 6-month skin check (which is later this week and, as usual, I’m always petrified).  Then I have a six-month period of feeling fine until August when I have my annual “wellness” check-up, and every three years a colonoscopy, and in September my other 6-month skin check, which always has me stressed by the amount of sun I take in the summer.  Then I have October, November, and December as a distraction, which may be why I love Christmas so much, until January when the cycle commences for the next year.

“THANK GOD IT’S ONLY ONCE A YEAR THAT I SEE HER”–and that’s what my doctor says when she sees me–all of me!

Yes. That is what wellness is all about.  Wellness is not watching a wellness influencer tell you that to have a perfectly running body you must take these “generic brand gummy, jelly, artificially fruit flavored supplements to add strength, youthfulness, vim and vigor to yourself.  And might I add these little pellets of artificial flavor are not FDA-approved.  And they won’t prevent Covid nor will they take the place of being vaccinated.  Go to your doctor!

And let’s not forget about hair, skin and nail supplements that multitask. Thinning hair? Save your money and buy a wig.

I love imperfections.  In our home, I love that there isn’t a theme in our décor.  The vibe is comfort.  It’s inviting.  Plop yourself on the sofas or a chair.  Sit on the floor for all I care.   The dwelling isn’t perfect, but it is clean.  And that is all that matters.

Welcome. Take yer shoes off and relax.  take a seat and enjoy.

Like my parents’ priority was me and my siblings, when my children were young, they were the priority.  Currently, the priority is saving our money for travel and spending our money on our mortgage, car payments, utilities and every-day living expenses.  The priority isn’t running out and making purchases to have our home be a royal palace.  Instead, our home is an imperfect palace.  And that’s how I love it.

When I wake up in the morning and see the vision of my face reflecting in the mirror as I go to brush my teeth and was my face, I see a very old version of myself that isn’t perfect.  I don’t necessarily love the reflection, but I am thankful I woke up to see it.  And that’s what I love.

Every morning. Every. Morning.  The age spots. The discoloration. The wonky eyes. The lady whiskers that I need to pluck.  But as long as I get the opportunity to wake up and welcome the day, I’m happy!

Skincare, a bit of makeup, and, naturally, my fake hair are my assistants in making me look nice.  My eyes are still crossed and asymmetrical. The age spots have replaced the cute freckles of my youth.  The lines are lining.  Texture is still there.  My fang tooth still manages to stick out when I smile—and I love that.  All of that is part of what makes me, well, me.

Slap some makeup on to even out the skin, and it does the job. The eyes are still wonky.  The texture is still there but with a little assistance–especially with the wig–and my imperfections are an asset! Note–I’m not wearing mascara!

I love the comfort of our home.  When I come home from work at what I deem “Shudder Island”, I am entering my comfort zone of individual home décor and not that of some grifter telling me how to decorate.  It is my husband and my collective.

My happy place.  It may not be perfect to some but to me–it’s my chateau!

So there.  Take that throw blanket that your dog bit a hole into.  Take that scratched arm of the sofa that your cat decided to dig their claws into.  Take that tiny wine spill on the sofa to remind you of a great gathering during the holidays and embrace it all.  Admire your imperfections.  Because they have personality.  Imperfections are fun and quirky.  They are unique and make you..well, you!

A gentle reminder that we live with a dog.

And another gentle reminder.  Chippy owns this sofa. And yeah, there’s a little stain on the sofa’s arm.  But it isn’t worth it to sweat the small stuff. It makes life realistic!

Imperfection is reality.  Smoke and mirrors, as well as perfection, is an illusion and not realistic!

Yup.  I have not applied mascara to my lashes in, oh, about five months now.  Realistically, maybe twice in five months when we went someplace special.

Moi! Sans Mascara!  Ya can’t tell if I’m wearing it or not!

Didn’t bother wearing it when we were in Paris.  Nor did I bother applying it during the Holidays.  Nor at work.

In France last month! No mascara but lots of lip gloss!

And the infamous drive home from Cincinnati on Christmas Day. No mascara!

There are reasons for this as well as an observation.

First , let’s talk aging.  The process has done a number on my lashes.   Yeah. It has done a job on my brows too but I can fill the brows in in no time.   The lashes are different.

As a child, I was blessed, thanks to genetics with extremely dark and lush lashes.  I will never forget in eighth grade when one of the nuns asked me if I was wearing mascara.  I also remember answering her “You know my mother.  Do you honestly believe I’m wearing mascara”?  Instead of being punished for giving a mouthy answer, Sr. Mary Maurice just walked away.  She knew I was not lying.

It’s that “nun” look.  Judging.  Then when you tell the truth. Still judging!

Even as a young adult in my twenties, I rarely wore it.   My natural lashes sufficed well.  It wasn’t until my forties that I started wearing this dark, gooey, substance in a tube to enhance the lashes I had of yesteryear.  And as I hit menopause, among other bodily changes, it dawned upon me that these dark hairs lining my eyes, weren’t as lush anymore. In fact, they misplaced themselves to my chin.  Hence, the importance of a tweezer in every room in the house, in the car and in the office.

It’s not lady whiskers.  It’s just that my eyelashes have moved to my chin!

I experimented over the years.  Apparently, the Maybelline “Great Lash” did not live up to the advertised promise and, seemingly, a full tube was needed to achieve one lash being great.

NO WAY did Great Lash ever make my lashes look like this. That mascara is the worst!

A small fortune was spent on Lancome mascara—which did a decent job but $36 every month or so was way out of my principals.  Magazine ads would falsely advertise various mascaras to have your lashes be as thick as the hairs you wax from the bikini line.   Caveat—at least the UK had regulations for a tiny side note stating the ad had been enhanced.

Unless you use three tubs of this, your lashes ain’t gonna look that lush.  Even on younger women!

And over the years, to make my lashes look full and lush and just like the ones I grew up with I went through many brands.

My current stash of mascara that I don’t even use anymore.  The L’Oreal Voluminous  is actually the best of the group. It gives volume but by afternoon, you have raccoon eyes.  Everyone raves about Thrive mascara but it’s okay. Overpriced.  Voluninous Million Lashes–it’s never been used. And Lash Paradise also by L’Oreal–my daughter loves it. It’s good but again, it smears.

I also went through carrying Q-Tips in my purse because in winter, the wind would, and still does, make my eyes tear up.  That means runny mascara that needed to be wiped off my under eyes.  In summer it sweat, or rather that glistening glow from the heat, would melt the mascara making me search the bowels of my purse for yet, another Q-Tip.  Also to wipe the smearing from the bottom of my eyes.  And I didn’t use mascara on my bottom lashes for almost a decade!  This was runoff from my top lashes.

This would be me after a walk on a windy day.  This would also be me in the summer.

Don’t even suggest waterproof mascara. It takes a serious cleaning crew to remove that stuff.

Actually, forget cleaning crew. I would have to sandblast waterproof mascara off my lashes!

And so, I decided to quit mascara.  Just quit.  Stop using it altogether.  And I have no shame nor do I have regrets.

These days I take a gel liner and line in between my top lashes and sometimes line above. It depends what kind of mood I’m in.  Then I take another gel liner—one that won’t smear, and tightline.  The products last all day.  In summer, sometimes the liner from my waterline transfers very lightly to my bottom waterline but it doesn’t look bad.

That’s what I do. I simply line my eyes and waterline!

Point is.  I’m tired.  As much as I love wearing makeup, and trust me, I do. My makeup makes me feel good and assists me in looking better.  It is as simple as that.  However, the less I can use these days, the better off I am—price wise and time wise.

I did use Latisse and the generic solution some years back.  After six or eight weeks of use, I was happy with the results.  But it was pricey and I stopped.

Latisse, as well as the generic brand, work. But it takes time and money. I’m too cheap and too lazy.

I did try lash extensions once.  But the maintenance was both expensive and way too time-consuming and there wasn’t really much of a difference as I went with the more natural look.

I went with a more natural lash extension and it looked fine but to maintain the lashes was time-consuming and expensive and I didn’t know what the long-term effect would be on my natural lashes.

I did experiment with false lashes for a moment.  The application process was too messy for me. Then I tried the magnetic kind.  I’ll be honest—of all the choices available, the magnetic lashes were decent.  The only issue was that the magnetic force was never strong enough to last all day. And so, I gave up.

Me. With the falsies. They would fall down and forget about the glue!

My “get ready” time in the morning is precious to me.  Because I need to be at the hospital early in the morning for work, I arise at 5:00 AM.  Between 5:00 AM and 5:15 AM, I head to the bathroom to do my thing.  Then from 5:15 to 5:30 AM it’s that 15 minutes of “putting my face on” while my husband makes coffee.  And he knows how to make the best cup of coffee!

When I wore mascara, it was a five-minute process.   Mascara primer.  YES. I fell into that trap.  Then the first coat of mascara.  Let it dry.  Then the second coat.  Let it dry.  Then the third coat.

It was ridiculous.  As I dive deeper into the aging process, time is now of the essence.  Mascara is not.  I want time to be my bestie and not my rival.  The “less is more” with makeup is something I take into heart.

My five-minute face. Brow gel. Eyeliner. Neutral shadow. Tinted moisturizer. Guerlain’s Meteorites powder to finish and lip balm.  Honestly, there’s no need for mascara anymore!

No more foundation either.  I think I may have written about this in the past but I’m not ambitious enough to look through archives.  Tinted moisturizer has taken the place of foundation…and this is to be continued in my next post!

Are you still wearing mascara?  Are you happy with the results?  Be honest!  I want to know what you think!

In this post, I am going to cover a very controversial subject.  Fashion experts abhor them. Karl Largerfeld detested them.  Go on the internet and any self-proclaimed fashionista will pontificate that women “over a certain age” should never wear them.

Look. I LOVED Mr. Karl as a designer. He was incredibly talented. And had I ever met him, I would go all fangirl on him–I could even dress like him for Halloween if I lost 30 pounds.  But let’s face it. The man how abhored leggings and sweatpants on women looks a bit like he’s wearing leather leggings in this pic.  

Leggings!

I do not speak of the heavy woolen leggings we wore as little girls during the winter…

I’m talkin’ THESE baby!  LEGGINGS!!!

Well, I say “pooh-pooh” (what I really say is not printable) to that.  My wardrobe contains plenty of leggings.

I am talking about the stretchy ones that hug your legs like a long-lost toddler.  That second skin that shows off all the bumps and panty lines.    The ones that are disguised as “active wear” for influencers to justify wearing them outside of the gym—but you know those grifters wear them all the time!

We know you’re wearing those leggings outside of the gym.  We know it. Influencer or not,  this item of clothing is being  disguised as “workout” clothing and activewear. They are LEGGINGS!

Now, I gotta take a moment here to write of my profound love for this article of clothing. Even though I don’t wear them in the summer, nor do they get worn in early autumn as it is still too hot, they are worn in late autumn, all winter and in early spring. I also don’t wear them when I’m flying overseas. Although, I think I just might begin to.

No matter how hot it may get in the summer, I prefer the maxi dress. They are comfortable and breezy!

It is merely the comfort level that has me transitioning into an old lady who eschews anything confining on the body.  Seriously.  I can rarely wear jeans anymore because I feel like a sausage stuffed into a casing.  And don’t forget the overlapping muffin top.  When I now wear jeans it’s either skinny ones that are a size or two larger or the loose-fitting boyfriend jeans.   As I’ve gotten older, my wardrobe has gone from fashionable to comfort style and I am not ashamed.

Three years ago, I was wearing jeans like this. I still like them but I’m just not comfortable in the tummy area.

My preference these days is the “boyfriend”jean. Looser and more comfortable.

The thing is wearing them in such a way that I don’t look like a contender for the “I-don’t-care-how-I-look” competition.  Fact is, I do care how I look.  I’m not obsessed, but want to look nice for me.  Because, and this is must my unhumble opinion, if you feel good about how you are dressed, you’ll feel a lot better about yourself.  And note:  I said “wear” as opposed to “style” because the “style” word is so over and misused. Throwing a scarf around your neck and carrying a purse isn’t styling. It’s wearing and carrying.  Style is something one has.  It is an innate sense.

Throwing a scarf on and wearing a blazer are not “styling” leggings. It is merely what I’m wearing with my leggings. I’m still not wearing socks though!

Anyway, leggings are practical.  Gained weight?  Wear an oversized sweater or tunic and a pair of leggings.

Wearing boots?  God calves that aren’t Q-tip thin?  Got normal sized calves that, if you’re wearing trousers or jeans, cannot get those boots zippered?  Besides—when they do zipper over jeans and pants, the clothing bunches up and looks awful.  Wearing leggings will take care of that.

These boots, by Chinese Laundry are at least 15 years old. They fit BEAUTIFULLY over leggings. Nothing will change my mind on that

Shall we have a look-see at the pragmatism of leggings?

I wore these leggings and this sweater in Paris last month.  I know. I know. We are told to NOT wear leggings in Paris. I call bullshit. Wear what makes you comfortable.

Typical of what I’ve been wearing to work this winter. Leggings–especially with boots and a scarf because the hospital I work in has no heat in my office. I’m not kidding. No heat.  I have been working slowly.

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Another work look. More leggings.  Boots from about eight to ten years old. My Temu coat that is now on it’s second winter. A great purchase for under USD 25!

More leggings, Loose sweater and black boots.  It’s now a uniform!

Also when in Paris last month, I wore this long trench from Temu. Who could tell there were leggings worn under this maxi coat?

Even lolling around at home or running errands.  Leggings are worn.

Honestly, it isn’t what you wear it’s how you wear articles of clothing. Yeah. You can look like a slob in leggings. You can also look like a slob in a great pair of trousers or a dress or anything for that matter.  It’s how you wear it that counts.

I’m sick and tired of influencers and the internet and social media and self-proclaimed fashion experts dictating what to wear and what not to wear.  I’m exhausted in how non-professionals pontificate “trends”.

Leggings are fine. It’s all good.  And don’t forget to wear that smile!!!