My grandmother Leachman longed for me to be a little lady. My mother had friends who were concerned that we daughters were not going to be proper when we grew up if we didn't engage in several appropriate activities for young ladies. One of the things these women had in common was they thought it necessary to teach girls how to behave at a Tea. How to pour and properly sip. How to eat little pastries served with tea. Polite conversation and Junior League preparedness.
By the time I was actually old enough to go to Teas it was evident I was not going to be a Deb. The parties I attended involved Boones Farm cheap, cheap wine and anything we could roll. AND we didn't really have rules to follow. We appreciated it if no one lipped the joint but we were not emphatic. It was also appreciated when someone wiped off the top of the bottle before passing. Appropriate conversation involved whatever was "far out man" and appropriate dress was being mostly covered.
A lot of change in one generation. Thank heavens I didn't have to do the Teas...I just can't see myself too concerned about Muffi's daffodils or Trudie's little Yorkie. One day a friend and I went on an estate sale crawl through the University Park areas of Dallas. We arrived at one home with several Delta Delta Delta items for sale and things too expensive for me new much less "pre owned". The woman running the sale was on her cell when my friend and I arrived. I swear the conversation from our ended sounded liked this,
"Muffi...faaaabulous news, we got 12 hundred for the tapestry....I KNOW, it IS faaaaabulous....bye sweetie" this was of course followed by an air kiss. I had to leave before I lost my faaaaabulous breakfast.
I walk through Needless Markup, sorry Mr. Marcus, on my way to The Mall where the stores are that I can afford. I see women in Neiman's that leave my mouth open. Where do they get all that money for stuff? I cannot conceive of paying in excess of a thousand dollars for something I will wear, carry as a purse or put on my feet. These woman MUST be wearing, carrying, sporting, in excess of 30 thousand dollars plus, counting some of the jewelry. I would walk with an armed guard. Whoa, Nellie....I gasp when I pause to look at a price tag.
I see women at the Galleria that are like me and those there to shop at Saks. I went into Saks one day. They don't make clothes that fit me. I am not that oddly shaped. I just don't look like a super model. Maybe a slightly pregnant, plus size, foot model. Good grief a size eight in Saks is like a size minus 40 at Kohl's. HUGE area for boobs, no waist and a little butt. Hello? Who shops here? Surgically altered and incredibly blessed women. I was there for the shoe sale. Feet sizes are within a size no matter what. Shoes on sale at Saks are shoes that I would have to think about buying on lay away for a year. On sale for 700 dollars. No, that is my winter wardrobe....for a couple of years. Or maybe all my coats combined. 700 dollars does not go on your feet all at once. That is 350 a foot. On sale. Mercy.
I was driving down Midway one day. I saw the most beautiful blue Chrysler. I had never seen a car that color before. It was actually Midnight Blue with a deep luster I couldn't believe was on a car. Oops, it was a Bentley. A very young woman was driving said Bentley. Her car costs more than my house. I have a nice house. Her car costs more than my house, car and my husband's truck. We have nice vehicles.
I saw a tiny woman at Macy's one day. A regular Macy's. She must have been lost or was slumming. She couldn't have been five feet tall. She had beautifully sculpted breasts that must have cost an arm and a leg. She did look a bit like she might tip forward. Not from the breasts, from the diamond. Unholy cow, I can't guess the number of carats. It must have been ten. She had teeny tiny hands and a diamond that would look good in a royal crown. She couldn't possibly have been comfortable in something that huge. It would be like gluing a giant gumball on your hand and trying to function without whacking it on everything. More like a burden than a bauble.
All these women look like they are frozen in time. No hair out of place. Never any tell tell roots that prove honey blond is not natural. Clothes fit perfectly. Mani/pedi...perfect. Matchy shoes and purse or not depending on the style. If they tucked in a blouse, it never moves. Always perfectly tucked....that is impossible. These women know something I don't.
It occurred to me maybe all these women went to Teas and learned to be proper. Maybe that is actually what makes one successful. Or at least rich. Or at least driven to look like a magazine cover. I get up, put on make up, flat iron my hair, get dressed and in 5 minutes I look like I went through a rain storm, got fuzzy haired, smeary make up and wrinkled clothes. I never tuck in anything, that is an exercise in futility. Once I sit down nothing is tucked anywhere. I will never be appropriate.
You thought I was going to rant didn't you?
No, that is, "Tea Party 2, Where have all the ism's gone?"
LBB
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