EDDY'S PAGE
by Eddy Robey M.A.

There are many tasks involved with getting ready for Rosh Hashanah: polishing silver, making a special order at the wine shop, and reading fashion magazines. Yes, I know there are women who purchase a classic suit and are able to wear it for several years, but my ever-increasing age and avoirdupois, always decree that the time has come for a new outfit.

Learning about the latest fashions involves a different vocabulary than normal usage, one which is accompanied by its own sense of what is attractive. Garments are described as having attitude, being edgy, looking hip: this last despite the fact that the only hips in evidence on the glossy pages are hipbones.

Being primarily fluent in old-lady speak, I struggle a bit with these terms. Attitude? Oh yes, during my former incarnation as a high school teacher, this was a valid reason for sending students to detention. Edgy? During the 1960s, women on edge were likely to be given a prescription for Valium. This, in the futile hope that we would stop being so uppity, and go tend to our needlepoint.

Whilst wondering how these characteristics could possibly be those of inanimate objects such as skirts or shoes, I leaf through the pages, and begin to have an idea that perhaps the words describe women rather than dresses. Almost every model has her lips in a pout, eyebrows brought together in a scowl, and jaw thrust forward. Poses are awkward; one of the most favored involves standing pigeon-toed with shoulders slumped.

How did they get this way? Did wearing the clothes transform otherwise pretty ladies into the angry-looking, clumsy creatures pictured? Maybe the answer lies with the last of the three favored descriptors, hip. No hips anywhere. To a one, these gals are emaciated, and have breast implants. Low necklines reveal collarbones, chest bones, shoulder bones, and the protrusions of two perfectly round balloons. No doubt about it, when a person is starving, it's hard to muster the energy to smile or maintain good posture.

Now, I'm a nice little person, one who is looking forward to feasting at the new year. Being a baby-boomer not only makes me part of the largest segment of the buying population, but also means that I am more apt to have the discretionary funds needed for the purchase of fashionable things. Do I know anyone as skinny as those models? Just those of my friends unfortunate enough to be under the constant care of a physician. Implants? Ha! After a certain age, most of my gal-pals head straight for the lingerie rack labeled minimizers.

Am I going to waste any time or money trying to resemble one of those unhappy-looking waifs in magazines? You must be kidding. I am going to smile all the way to my neighborhood dressmaker, and help support a businesswoman who knows how to treat a customer. She will be sure to show me patterns suitable to my shape and years. Did someone say elastic waistbands?

My new get-up will not cost any less than the ones in the magazine. However, it will come with a wonderful bonus; the grin on my face at being myself and feeling pretty. My dear old daddy always told me that a smile is the best cosmetic; he was right. Enjoy the company, revel in the goodies, and know that when beaming at her family, every woman is beautiful.

L'Shana Tova