It's not like I have a lot of things from which to choose. It's not even that I don't like my body - although that has something to do with it because I'd probably wear the dress I wore on my birthday last year if I didn't hate my arms so much. Another trouble with that dress is that you can kind of see straight through it, and I don't have a slip. I don't have a slip because I normally don't care if you can see straight through my skirts. I know I should care, but I don't. If I were going out in the evening with a man, I would wear it with a light silk shawl around my flubbery arms like I always do.
Since the event is in the morning and I'll be surrounded by former Parents' Association friends, and Vagina Dentata will be there, I'll probably wear the red dress I wore when I read at KGB as PENolan for the first time. My arms would still show, but I have shoes and a bag that work well with it and I'm pretty sure the color is still good for me even though my hair is a different color now than it was when I bought it a couple of years ago. My mother was there and said I looked like a floosie in a red dress - which is another point in it's favor since I don't look like a floosie at all. Unless you count Jessica Rabbit as a floosie - but my hair is more auburn now than blonde so I don't look like Jessica Rabbit anymore.
It's difficult to maintain blonde hair for years and years without frying the ends - just look at Stevie Nicks. I love Stevie Nicks. I even look a bit like Stevie Nicks in terms of body shape and coloring that's because we're both Welsh. Nevertheless, her ends are fried and frizzy unless she's had it blown out straight in which case it looks pretty good.
I'm not sure if Farrah Fawcett was Welsh, but she sure had great hair. She kept her well maintained blonde to the end, too, which is no easy task. Farrah Fawcett was from Corpus Christi, Texas. Her parents lived in Houston by the time she got famous on Charlie's Angels. We were dang proud of her, a nice girl from Texas, as we traipsed around the Houston Suburbs, most of us girls with our hair cut just like hers while we drank PBRs or Sloe Gin & Dr. Pepper. Sloe Gin & Dr. Pepper tasted just like Cherry Dr. Pepper from the Dairy Queen.
Now that Michael Jackson is dead too, people won't remember Farrah nearly as much as they should on account of how her hair influenced a generation. The other day, La Belette Rouge was wondering if someday after she died, Farrah would sit on top of her former apartment building in LA like an angel in a Wim Winder film. It would be nice to see a statue of Farrah looking like a golden angel. I have no clue what Michael Jackson meant to kids around the country when he was a star, but I sure know what Farrah Fawcett meant to girls in Texas back when I was in High School. I know because I was one:
This photo must have been taken prior to August 1978 since it's pre-blonde
Notice the PBR in the photo. I got Velvet some PBRs the other day up at Fairway. He's 18 and graduating from High School this very day. He hasn't registered for the selective service yet, but I imagine he will have to submit in order to get his drivers license this summer. He'll to register before fall, for sure, to receive his Federal Financial Aid for college. The drinking age may legally be 21, but I continue to believe that if the government says you can vote and get drafted, you should be able to drink a beer. As a rule, I refuse to buy said beer because that could be construed as contributing to the delinquincy of a minor - but it's a special occasion.
Velvet and his buddies drank them all last night after me and Dad went to bed. Then Velvet fell asleep on the couch and left the living room a mess again. I'd get bent out of shape except looking at that photo of myself when I was about Velvet's age reminds me that we were morons too.
As I contemplate what to wear this morning and fix my hair, I can't help but admit that in some ways, I'm still a moron.
But my hair looks nice, and I have a smile as big as Dallas sometimes - which is what we admired about Farrah.