Glamor eludes me..

Other people look attractive, but not me! I have been trying to look sexy or at least glamorous for years.

At sixteen my parents planned a Blow out Birthday Party! They invited neighbors, relatives and my friends from high school. They purchased a stunning dress, with shoes dyed to match, and the house was filled with flowers. My chance to impress everyone was here. I impressed them all right. One hour before the festive event I tripped over the dog, spraining my ankle. My elegant celebration was half over when I arrived in jeans with crutches.

Back in the 60s’ I watched TV personalities and movie starlets step from their limousine holding a fur muff. That year my husband surprised me with a black seal muff. Clutching a fur muff when you're eight months pregnant just adds to your girth.

The following year I decided a fancy red velvet dress for special occasions would be great. But it's hard being distinctive when you can't leave your home without dragging a diaper bag.

Perhaps a slinky black beaded dress would do it. One hundred and twenty dollars poorer, my results were the same. Our couples club attended a dinner at a snobby hotel. Yes, Calamity Jane wore the slinky dress - with my arm in a sling because of a tennis elbow.

My extra cash was saved to buy a designer hat for my son's Boy Scout God and Country Award. This one-of-a-kind large brimmed hat was going to do it. Then my dermatologist called and said he had a cancellation that same day. He decided to remove moles from my face. I kept saying, "Yes." At the end of the session to my surprise several bandages were put on. At the impressive ceremony people asked if I had been in an auto accident because three Band-Aids adorned my face. Nobody noticed my new hat.

I'm doomed to going through life gaining attention for all the wrong reasons.

Life in the new millennium is different. I have to hurry to be glamorous. Soon it will be forever too late. Why? It's hard to appear sexy or fetching in orthopedic shoes when you're awaiting a hip replacement.


© 2003
by Bertamae Anger Ives