I guess by now my readers know that I'm living, and sweating, in Palm Springs, California. Either it was my getting older or New York getting colder that forced my hand. When the temperature started dropping, I knew it was time to get out or be sentenced to living under my comforter with the apartment heat turned to high. Not an option.
HATTIE (one name only) is a living example that beauty, sexuality and spirituality are enhanced with age. A fit and fabulous Senior, she is a successful Holistic Life Coach specializing in Anti-Aging, Women's Empowerment and Sexuality. For Hattie's full bio click here.
I’ve spent my life being an outspoken individual. No mold or in the box life for me! That’s what I thought, until….
I remember how excited I was when Trader Joe's arrived in Manhattan. Wow, now I can shop at a store filled with fresh, innovative bargain-priced items. After first shopping there while visiting California, I remember praying that a branch would open in New York. The staff, signage, décor, labeling and Newsletter were so pretty and perky. Well, my prayers, and those of so many other savvy shoppers was answered.
When the phrase “Holy Days” appears, it has a sombre quality. It elicits images of tranquil, serious contemplation – a time set aside to appreciate the gift of Life, and to clear one's soul of rancor and resentment. In direct contrast, the word, “Holiday” a clear derivative, brings forth visions of celebration, feasting ... PRESENTS!
It's thoroughly disgusting that companies invest millions for research on what consumers will believe, and BUY. Though their claims are usually false and misleading, which is bad enough, they often are outright DANGEROUS.
When I was a child (a hundred years ago), anyone who was overweight aimed for a 10 pound weight loss. That would have made a substantial difference, as no one I knew was obese. The Yiddish word “Zaftik” pretty much described a woman who, in those days, had some extra flesh, yet was sexy and in no way fat!
As a grandmother, I'm mindful of the commonly held beliefs of how a “woman my age” should dress. But those rules won't apply to me. No longer will I avoid looking sexy in clothing worn by young women. In fact, as I pass through the interior of that humongous station, rather than being disdained, I'm admired. It feels wonderful to be photographed, praised, hugged by young people who are thrilled to see an older woman not afraid to be herself.
My Russian-born mother was 4'11” and wore a 4 ½ size shoe. Believe it or not, that was the sample size in the 1930s and 1940s. She prided herself on her dainty feet – the rest of her wasn't quite as dainty – as she found exquisite footwear that she felt proud to wear, and that was reasonably priced. In my teens, I was 5'4” weighed 125, and wore a size 61/2 shoe. It was looking as if each new generation was gaining inches on the preceding generation.
Zipping on my boots, I left the TV on and chanced on the Queen Latifah Show. I find her very likable charming, and non plastic in presentation or surgery. So, when she began her show with an earnest appeal for us to get our “girls” checked, I sat up and paid attention.
Last week, the streets of Manhattan were transformed into powerful rallying sites. Marchers from all over the world joined forces to protest the destruction of our soil, air and water. Focusing mostly on climate changes and the dangers of fracking, over half a million marchers bravely struck back at the forces that refuse to recognize the severity of the climate problem.