BOOMERBROADcast

Baby Boomer's social commentary on life in OUR sixties for those who rocked life in THE sixties.


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It’s not easy being a trophy wife

We definitely earn our keep.

Just ask Melania Trump, our club founder and honorary chief about how difficult it is to always be viewed as nothing more than arm candy. In her wonderful book I Feel Bad About My Neck the late Nora Ephron lamented the exorbitant amount of time and money required to keep ourselves looking presentable as we age. She reckoned the time factor alone would total a full-time eight-hour-a-day job by the time we reach our eighties. Which isn’t that far off.

The rising cost of personal maintenance as we age is something that is becoming increasingly difficult to bear and definitely something our husbands/partners don’t need to know about. The price of keeping up my “natural” highlights and trim is locked in the vault; the costs of quality makeup, skin care products and body creams are just too scary and embarrassing to share with anyone; my electrolysis appointments are made and carried out in secret. The price of vitamin supplements, probiotics, fish oil and all the other potions required to keep our gears oiled is enough to bring on early cardiac arrest.

Massages can be designated as therapeutic health care in the same way chocolate and fashion magazines can be called groceries. They’re in the family budget and the costs are easy to hide. The other day as I was making an appointment for a mani-pedi, I recalled the days when I performed those tasks myself—for free. The results were generally reflective of my skill level at the time but at least they didn’t require the vast cash outlays I’m now forced to endure. I won’t even start on the price of quality fashion designed to camouflage our so-called figure flaws. Which brings me to the cost of Weight Watchers, gymn memberships, tennis lessons and yoga classes. Not to mention having to subscribe to every fashion and decorating magazine currently in publication to stay abreast of what’s in and what’s out. It’s a lot of time and a lot of money. The work never ends.

Will I ever not care?

I’ve often wondered if I’ll ever reach the point when I’m living in the “home” surrounded by the urns of ashes from all my dead dogs, that I won’t care what I look like. Imagine waking up in a comfy flannel teddy bear printed nightgown, brushing your inch-long “pixie” cut and putting on a fresh pink sweat suit over your soft cotton undershirt and grannie panties. Finish the ensemble with fuzzy warm socks inside Tender Tootsies and we’re set to go. Wouldn’t it be lovely if our daily makeup routine consisted of just a slash of clear lip balm to prevent scabs, a few drops of Systane to keep our dry old eyes from crusting over, and we’re ready to rock n’ roll. No more probing in a 10X magnifying mirror for stray chin hairs, new wrinkles, age spots or suspicious skin growths.

The work to stay beautiful never ends.

My husband is either discreetly grateful or sadly indifferent to what it takes to keep me looking so fabulous when he takes me out on the town to McDonald’s or for special occasions like my birthday to Swiss Chalet. When I ask how I look, his answer is always, “fine”. Good enough seems to be good enough. And we haven’t even ventured into such premium procedures as Botox, fillers and cosmetic surgery yet. Keep those pension cheques coming—it isn’t getting any easier.

That’s why we trophy wives have our own Visa cards and bank accounts. This allows us to make discreet lump sum transfers from the joint account into our own account to skillfully bury the high cost of maintenance. Life’s just easier if he doesn’t know the details. Although, considering what it costs him to golf, by my calculations, I’m still a bargain. And with his handicap, he’ll have to be content with me being his only trophy. But, I’m worth it.

To order  I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron from Amazon.com, click here.

You’ll love it and it’s only $6.52

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Avoid these 6 fashion mistakes

Who am I to be offering fashion advice! Boomer gals have always been told “If you wore it once before, you can’t wear it again”. That’s the beauty of listening to us—we’ve been there at least once, made our share of mistakes and are happy to dispense fashion advice to anyone who will listen. So, if you’re willing to listen, I’m going to share six fashion mistakes I’ve made over the years and strongly suggest you not repeat them.

  1. Don’t buy into everything the fashion mags promote. They get it wrong more often than not.

    Jumpsuits or rompers: Several decades ago, an old boyfriend gave me a bubble-gum pink crimpolene (the fabric alone should give you an idea of how long ago it was) one-piece jumpsuit for Christmas. I felt like a circus clown minus the fright wig (that came later) in the outfit and had to completely undress every time I went to the bathroom. The nightmare still lingers. Spare yourself this disaster. No one looks good in a jumpsuit, I don’t care what the fashionistas say.

  2. Shoes that almost fit: Who hasn’t gone into Town Shoes or Nine West when they’re having their seasonal clear out sale and picked up some great buys, only to wear them once. Shoes never stretch and they never get comfortable if they’re not absolutely perfect in the store. Buy shoes late in the day when your feet are swollen and tender to ensure a good fit. Opt for quality and comfort over price. If you didn’t love them at full price, they’re no better at fifty percent off and half a size too small.
  3. Coulottes and jumpsuits never were and never will be flattering on anyone – ever!

    Beware of trends:  Ladies of a certain age (Boomers) have to be discriminating about what fashion trends we buy into and not get sucked in to what they’re plugging in magazines or on television. Our knees have gone south and are no longer what they used to be so that rules out mini skirts and short dresses. (Remember: we did that half a century ago.) Coulottes were never attractive. If you’re going to buy a “cold shoulder” top or wild print, don’t pay a lot because you’ll soon tire of it and next year it won’t work. By the way, Jackie Kennedy never wore prints. Worth noting.

  4. Quantity over quality: When you’re young it’s tempting to go for lots of cheap items of “disposable” clothing. Variety rules and “more” outranks “better”. Unfortunately, the total expenditure often equals that of a few better-made, quality pieces that fit better, are more versatile and get more mileage. We quickly get bored with that over-the-top print or fed up with the drape of a cheaply made dress. There’s merit in calculating the “cost per wearing” factor over the lifespan of the item.
  5. Colours matter: When I wear anything orange I look jaundiced. Same goes for red hair, which I tried once for forty-eight hours. Be conscious of your most flattering colour palette. I’ve also noticed that as we age, colour is our friend; beige is for cadavers. Much as I love grays with silver jewelry, I have to add a citrus green or pink scarf to make it pop. And I don’t think there’s a woman alive who doesn’t look smashing in red, including redheads.
  6. Oh dear! We’ve all been there, or tried to.

    Tattoos: Be very very careful before you ink. Over time tats fade and blur and nothing is more unappealing than old wrinkled skin sporting an indistinguishable wrinkled old tattoo. The same applies for “permanent makeup”. A friend once had her over-plucked eyebrows tattooed in. They looked lovely—at first, then they faded and turned mauve. And, have you ever seen a woman with permanent tattooed dark lip liner when her lipstick wears off? Beyond not pretty! (And this from someone who is contemplating trying the new “microblading” technique to fill in my own over-plucked brows. Do as I say, not as I do.)

Boomer gals have racked up more than our share of fashion “don’ts” over the years. In the seventies, I once sported khaki green hair when I accidentally bleached my hair (the “hair lightening” label on the box was misleading) and tried to fix it by applying a medium ash blonde permanent colour. I won’t even begin describing the perm disasters and styling mistakes I’ve lived through. Am I the only idiot who tried one of those perms that looked like a bushy Julius Caesar laurel wreath around your head with flat hair on top? At least the rage for wearing white nurses’ pantyhose in the seventies wasn’t permanent and quickly passed.

We whipped up dozens of these little beauties in the sixties and seventies.

The upside of these fashion disasters is that it gives us plenty to laugh about when we look at old photos and reminisce over multiple glasses of icey Pinot Grigio. One of my friends still has the lime green leather mini skirt she wore in the sixties, with a matching jacket and expensive long brown boots (both long gone). The saved mini skirt is about a foot long and not much wider, worthy we think of being displayed in a shadow box and hung on the wall. Some things just deserve museum status.

Remember the quaint little printed empire-waisted “village” dresses we wore in the mid-sixties? At $14.98 they were a little out of my price-range. Back then, when most of us were broke and still able to sew, we whipped up dozens of little A-line mini dresses trimmed in braid or rick-rack. Fancying myself a bit avant-garde, I liked to buy floral drapery fabric purchased at Toronto’s posh Eaton’s College Street store to make mine and . . . well I’ll leave it to your imagination. Once, I even made a matching purse out of an empty kleenex box (the cardboard was a lot stronger in those days) covered with the same fabric as my dress. And now I have the nerve to offer fashion advice?

A wee bit older and a bit wiser.

While Boomers are not willing to make these mistakes again, perhaps there is some merit in the younger generation baring their midriff and sporting blue hair while tottering around on five-inch platforms. It’ll give them something to laugh about with their friends in the year 2050, remembering when they too once had bodies they thought would last forever. And that’s worth more than the price of a good bottle of Pinot . . . if you feel comfortable taking fashion advice from someone who once proudly sported a purse made from a Kleenex box.

Share your own fashion oopsies with our readers in the “Comments” section.

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Boomer girls just wanna look good

We can still rock it.

A couple of weeks ago I introduced Boomerbroadcast followers to a great fashion website and Facebook page for our demographic—Susan After Sixty. I’ve now found a couple more that I think you would enjoy:

Style At A Certain Age

Style Your Way to Success Over 50

The fashion mags continue to ignore our age group so I’m always delighted when I find fashion sites that offer some inspiration for those of us who aren’t stick thin and six feet tall. Most of us have finally figured out what does and does not flatter our particular body shape and that doesn’t necessarily involve elastic waists and granny prints. Personally, I’m always attracted to animal prints and anything with an abundance of tough-looking zippers going every which way. Remember the book “Color Me Beautiful” written thirty years ago by Carole Jackson? We all had our colours done and thereafter adhered to its dictum according to whether we were a Summer, Autumn, Winter or Spring. That advice stayed with me (I’m a “Summer”) although who doesn’t stray and occasionally strut out in the gorgeous saturated colours accorded to the “Winters”.

Who wouldn’t opt for fabulous over frumpy.

Our generation has always loved fashion and clothes. We invented mini-skirts and platform shoes in the sixties. We dropped our hemlines to maxi length with knee-high boots in the seventies and piled our shoulder pads three-deep to look executive in our power suits during the eighties. Boomers gals now have a few bucks to spend on looking great and we still enjoy it. With the dearth of inspiration out there, I’m hoping you’ll enjoy these sites. You can bookmark them, follow their website or friend them on Facebook. You’ll find lots of great ideas for your Pinterest files. Personal fashion choices are somewhat subjective but there are plenty of wonderful options to inspire. Here are the links.

Susan Street’s Susan After Sixty

Linda Waldon’s Style Your Way To Success Over 50

Beth Djalali’s Style At A Certain Age

Save them and have fun.

To order Color Me Beautiful by Carole Jackson from Amazon, click here

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The girlfriend grapevine is constantly growing

At last. Fashion advice Boomer Broads can relate to.

When girlfriends are on to a good thing, we share. If we find flattering jeans that fit our Boomer bodies, we tell everyone we know where to get them at the best price. We share recipes, the names of our favourite underwear brands (SOMA), favourite mascara (Lancôme Hypôse) and pretty much everything but our men. (We’ve invested too many years training them to our personal requirements.) There’s a section in my blog inspired by Oprah called My Favourite Things which I haven’t added to lately and is now going to be updated so keep an eye on it.

My latest discovery which I’m confident every Baby Boomer Broad will love is a website/blog called Susan After 60. As someone who constantly carps about the lack of flattering fashions available for our demographic and the ridiculous and relentless promotion of pouty, anorexic teenage girls in all the fashion mags, I was delighted to find Susan Street’s blog. It’s focused on fashion, with some lifestyle tips thrown in. I particularly like the way she acknowledges her challenges and how she addresses them. Spend some time rooting through her site; you’ll be glad you did.

And it’s not expensive.

Street began a new life in her early forties following a difficult divorce. Weighing more than two hundred pounds and suffering from low self-esteem, she worked to put her life back together. Without any formal training, the former naval enlistee started her own fashion and styling business, making mistakes along the way, which she shares with her readers as lessons learned. One of things I like the most (apart from the clothes, shoes, bags) about Susan Street’s blog is the fact that the brands she wears are not expensive designers. She sources her pants, tank tops, jackets and other wardrobe components from a wide variety of retailers including Chico’s, White House Black Market, Target, Dillards, Saks Off Fifth and Stein Mart. The result is a beautifully turned-out Boomer in classic outfits with a touch of flair. Her site includes easy links to retailers who carry what she’s wearing in case we want to order.

Click here for Susan After 60 and let me know what you think. If you like what you see, share it with friends, along with BOOMERBROADCAST.net of course. Let’s grow our girlfriend grapevine. I’d love to hear your comments.

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Is fashion advertising hitting the mark?

The anticipation of diving into my Sunday edition of The New York Times is what motivates me to get out of bed on Sunday mornings. It’s the size of a fire log and nearly as heavy, landing on my doorstep in the dark early hours wrapped in a thin plastic bag. I can’t wait to pour a big mug of hot tea, toast my only-on-the-weekends white artisan bread topped with home-made strawberry jam or unpasteurized honey and sit down at the kitchen table for my weekly love-in. Laying out the thick sections, I usually extract the Style section for a first perusal before moving on. There’s so much delicious reading in the Sunday Times I can usually make it last until Thursday at which time I pass it on to a neighbour.

In what universe is this ad supposed to make me want to invest in a designer purse?

In what universe is this ad supposed to make me want to invest in a designer purse?

It was a designer fashion ad on page three one Sunday that immediately and intensely offended me. My reaction was the culmination of seeing so many ads of a similar nature. As a baby boomer who has retired from the corporate world, I consider myself a fairly average consumer. The ad that triggered such a strong reaction featured pouty, anorexic teenage girls casually tossing off designer handbags worth thousands of dollars, dressed in barely-there whisps of clothing unwearable by ninety-nine percent of women. I’m not suggesting magazines should feature wall-to-wall hags and crones but a few more Ashley Graham types would help us feel we also stand a chance at looking beautiful.

Why do designers and product advertisers insist on always featuring skeletal, spoiled teenage girls in print ads? Are the handbags and jewelry not beautiful and exquisite enough to stand on their own merit or perhaps be modeled more appropriately by women such as Lauren Hutton or Carmen Dell’Orifice? Has the fashion industry ever actually polled their market recently to find out what we the consumers like to see in advertising? When I was a skinny twenty-something, I could relate to Twiggy in her mini dresses with her androgynous haircut. We were baby boomers and we represented the bulk of the buying public. But time marches on.

Who doesn't love Iris Apfel, shown here in a Kate Spade ad?

Who doesn’t love ninety-something Iris Apfel, shown here in a Kate Spade ad from last year.

Baby boomers are still where the money is but the fashion and advertising industry refuses to acknowledge this. They continue to cater to the 18-45 demographic as evidenced by their choice of models and I’m becoming increasingly more irritated and fed up with the assumption that this is what sells. I’d be much more inclined to buy a handbag, a piece of jewelry or article of clothing if it were modeled by a better version of me, not a waif-like, sulky teenager. I loved seeing Iris Apfel in the Kate Spade ads. Diane Keaton has a wonderful, quirky sense of style and when infrequent pictures of her turn up in magazines I often tear the pages out and keep them in my inspiration file.

Women who are able to spend big bucks on high-end fashion items have generally earned the right to do so. We’ve worked, many of us for decades, to accrue the fashion sense and budget to be discriminating about our purchases. I’m insulted and discouraged that the fashion industry chooses to ignore us. Our fashion tastes range from budget-conscious to designer and every price point in between. Before I die I hope that our demographic will once again be respectfully recognized for our potential buying power by seeing inspirational, age-appropriate models that reflect our tastes, our body types and our budgets in the media. Is that possible? Is the fashion industry really hitting the mark or am I missing it altogether?

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What on earth was The Hudson’s Bay Company thinking?

A Canadian icon?

A Canadian icon?

All I want for Christmas is not Mariah Carey. The marketing people at The Hudson’s Bay Company should have their Canadian citizenship revoked. My sense of national pride has been replaced by outrage over their recent selection of American “superstar” Mariah Carey to unveil the new Christmas (yes, I said Christmas, not holiday) windows in their downtown stores at Queen and Yonge Streets in Toronto. Founded more than three hundred years ago as a fur trading institution, The Hudson’s Bay Company (the Canadian equivalent of Macy’s) is one Canada’s oldest national icons, ranking right up there with much younger Tim Horton’s.

Mariah f#$%#ng Carey? What’s wrong with hiring a genuine Canadian such as our own beloved Jann Arden, Drake or even Justin Bieber? And on the subject of cost, apparently they gave Carey one million dollars to lip-sync (that’s the rumour) two songs. Even Céline Dion might agree to lip-sync a couple of tunes for a million dollars. This marketing faux pas only exacerbates my ongoing beef with Hudson’s Bay Company about their serious and persistent lack of sales staff to help customers and the invisibility of checkout counters in their mall stores. Trying to find a sales associate or a checkout counter at a Hudson’s Bay store in any suburban mall is like searching for a healthy food choice at Timmie’s.

Where's the sales staff?

Could someone please help me? Where’s the sales staff?

Just imagine how many Canadians could have been employed to assist customers in their stores for one million dollars, not to mention the increase in sales resulting from said assistance. Hell, I would have put on a Canada Goose parka or striped Hudson’s Bay point blanket wool coat (depending on the weather) and my trusty Sorel’s (click here for great Canadian boot companies) and turned up to sing at the event for nothing. I guarantee that would have driven customers into the store faster than any blast from Mariah Carey.

Do I sound a little angry? Apoplectic is a more appropriate word. I’ve written numerous letters and emails to various Hudson’s Bay managers over the years encouraging them improve their approach to customer service but this one really takes the cake. I just wish they would consult me first on major marketing issues. You’ll get more than your fill of Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” in every retailer’s P.A. systems before December 24th, to the point you’ll want to throttle her. Am I right or am I wrong in being angry?

Click below for links to previous related Boomerbroadcast posts about retail service:

Love their merchandise and provenance. Hate the way they treat customers.

Love their provenance and love their merchandise (as evidenced by my recently purchased Hudson’s Bay Barbie doll). Just hate the way they treat customers.

How to improve sales at The Hudson’s Bay Company

The solution for Canadian retailers is as easy as 1, 2, 3

Retail rant hits home

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What’s the deal with selfies?

Mirror mirror on the wall . . . what the hell happened?

Mirror mirror on the wall . . . what the hell happened to us all?

The rest of the world must have a whole lot more self-confidence than I do or perhaps they’re just incredibly vain because I totally don’t get everyone’s preoccupation with taking pictures of themselves, a.k.a. selfies. I’ve tried it a couple of times and after seeing the results I needed trauma counselling. It’s one thing to look at yourself in the privacy of your own bathroom mirror but something else to see yourself how others do. Unfortunately, this aversion to selfies excludes me from a number of potential career and lifestyle choices:

  1. Girlfriend, wife or mistress of Prince Charles or Prince William.
  2. Prime Minister of Canada, Chancellor of Germany or Queen of England
  3. Fashion model or cover girl.
  4. Instagram sensation or celebrity of any kind

Fortunately I did not pursue any of these career paths and was graciously spared the constant high-definition scrutiny of paparazzi with telephoto lenses trained on me leaving Loblaws. However, this does not exclude me from being worried about the possibility of my picture turning up without my permission on Entertainment Tonight or the evening news, inadvertently photobombing someone who does earn their living from their looks. It’s a constant worry.

Is it because I just don't measure up that I choose to abstain?

Is it because I just don’t measure up that I choose to abstain?

It’s not easy being a baby boomer who was raised to be modest and told that it was shallow and vain to draw attention to one’s self. When we were still in our twenties and still sporting firm, flat tummies and long slim, wrinkle-free necks, we participated in the odd sassy group shot with our besties and perhaps a rare head-shot when the hairdresser had just given us the teased and sprayed hairdo of our dreams for a special event. Otherwise, we absolutely never turned the camera on ourselves.

It’s not recommended you pull a Justin Timberlake in the voting booth or you could wind up with a mug shot for your portfolio. And while I’m still recovering from the shock of seeing a picture of myself up close, I continue to marvel at those who snap selfies in front of Abercrombie & Fitsch or while chowing down on their lunch. Their fascination eludes me and you can be sure I will never again snap a selfie, at least not until I’ve totally mastered PhotoShop or finished therapy, which will probably be never.

Stay tuned Boomers.

We’re featuring a guest blogger in our next post—a genuine millennial

who appreciates what our generation has to offer.

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