Mirror mirror on the wall. . .

The purchase started out as a cost-saving measure. Our bathroom is not particularly well-lit and when I gently suggested to my honey that we install a series of modern puck lights in the ceiling to even out shadows and provide better overall lighting for makeup application (a time-consuming and onerous task at my age), his response was predictably male. He immediately detailed the tiresome list of potential problems that could arise. We'd have to completely tear up the ceiling and lord knows what horrors that would uncover. We'd have to…

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The September issue has arrived

What Baby Boomer girl doesn't remember the excitement during the fifties and sixties, when the new Fall/Winter or Spring/Summer Eaton's and Simpson's catalogues arrived? Growing up in a small town where we were lucky to make it to Peterborough a couple of times a year, those thick, delicious catalogues offered glimpses of clothes, shoes, jewelry and toys most of couldn't afford but dreamed of possessing. We would endlessly pore over the pages of the latest fashions, planning wardrobes we would never own, but it was fun to fantasize. My girlfriends…

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The fashion fascists are laughing at us

Whoever those fashion fascists are who tell us each season what is hot and what's not, I'm on to their cruel joke. You know what I'm talking about. This season they told us rompers were all the rage and showed us endless pictures of anorexic teenage girls wearing them in all the fashion mags. I nearly coughed up my Geritol when I saw that one. Can you imagine an average woman with an average body strutting around in rompers? Not to mention having to get completely undressed to go to…

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My shame and sorrow have an upside

I was shamefully reminded again this week of my wanton ways. It's that time of year when many Boomers are cleaning out our closets and trooping off to Goodwill or the consignment store with green garbage bags full of our mistakes. We try to justify our shopping follies with excuses like "as soon as I lose ten pounds it'll look great" or "but I paid so much I hate to just get rid of it"? Some of the things have never even been worn. Perhaps they were on sale and…

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How many is too many?

Deconstructing "the look". French women make it look so easy. If I piled on all these items I look like the Michelin woman.
Deconstructing “the look” which comes so easily for French women.  If I piled on all these items I’d look like the Michelin man in drag.

It’s those sly French women who are responsible for my latest wardrobe folly. Watching them dash about the streets of Paris wearing simple basics with a gorgeous scarf lufting in the breeze, classic, art-inspired jewelry and an expensive leather cross-body bag, I imagined I could also achieve that air of je ne sais quois. All I had to do was buy good pants, tops and jackets in neutral black, white or gray, throw on a marvelous scarf and I too would be elevated to their level of chic sang-froid.

So I got to work. While my intentions were good, I’ve gone a bit overboard in stocking my wardrobe with basic black and white. Any modern woman will totally understand that we need more than one pair of black pants but how many is too many? The same issue applies to white tops—and black tops too for that matter. I’m embarrassed to tell you how many I have but Boomer Broads will understand how we need long-sleeved blouses, short-sleeved, three-quarters sleeves and sleeveless because our needs vary depending on the occasion and the weather. And this includes tee-shirts as well.

That's what I need - a separate room just for scarves.
That’s what I need – a separate room just for scarves.

What about those colourful scarves guaranteed to ensure my passage into French chic-dom? I now have too many and have not yet found a suitable filing system for them. I’ve tried draping them over hangers, clipping them on laundry rings, stuffing them through special from-the-organizer-store looped hangers and rolling them in drawers. The result is (more…)

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Buy it now. Hot off the press, literally!

When I opened this morning's Globe and Mail (Saturday, July 4, 2015) and started browsing the various sections, my heart lifted when I saw the full-page picture of the intelligent and frankly-spoken Iris Apfel on the cover of Globe Style. I've long been an admirer of the ninety-three-year-old's fashion sensibilities and overall opinions. (Click here for previous blog postings: Iris Rocks.) This week's articles tickled my fancy like no other in a while. For those of you who care about how you look and have even a passing interest in…

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