The Princess Gets a Phone

           "Dial P for Princess!”  In a long line of chatterboxes, I credit my chat-status to Nana, Mother, and Ma Bell who was a savvy gal.  She was a trend-setter, a forward looking Mama, determined to cater to future generations of Alexandra Graham Belles!  After all, who spends tremendous amounts of time on the phone:  females!

             The telephone in the back hallway at Nana’s house was the one I held when Santa called! I was trained in the art of conversation by the most excellent of “Talking on the Phone” women: my grandmother and her daughter.  How did they manage their social life without a cell phone I wonder?
             Prior to the car phone, cell phone, the smart phone, the phone that cooks supper and pays bills, the family’s phone was singular-one line for an “entire” family.  If a person called the last 4 digits (rotary dial), Voila! Connection to that home and everyone in it!  All the prefixes were the same. (83)Temple 6-5354  OR simply 5354 would reach my bestest friend’s family. “May I speak to Dale?”  “Sure, Jane, Just a minute!”  Calling down the hallway, “Dale…..it’s Jane.”
             So, when Ma Bell marketed the Princess Phone, it was directed to women, thus the name, slim line in colors other than “basic black.” The Princess was a forward thinker’s encouragement to the teenage daughter to have her own “designer” phone. It was the IPod/IPhone of our generation! My friend Cindy who grew up in Jackson, TN, was featured in the newspaper because she was the FIRST teen princess in Jackson to have a Princess Phone, blue of course.  She and I were immediately fast friends; though our teen years were miles apart, our connection was clear.

                     Other markets may have offered colors of “harvest gold” or “forest green,” but our color choices were limited to periwinkle blue and puke pink. Tiny wallpaper flowers and bedspread accents were light blue, so it was a natural that I chose the BLUE Princess Phone.  We did not have an additional line, but I got to say “hello” as a Princess, placing the oval, streamlined, baby blue phone next to my bed.  In my hand was the precious receiver with spiraled blue cord that would sometimes twist into a maze as I ran it between and around my fingers, like a hair curl. Fitting the regular-sized receiver under rollers inside the bonnet of a portable hair dryer was an Olympic event in duration of conversation over endurance of pain, stretching the elastic of the bonnet to further cut into the forehead, leaving marks similar to lobotomy scars.
                  The only other downside was that the lightweight base might dangle over the side of the bed, as it could easily be jerked off the bedside table if there was much excitement involving the phone call. As a bonus, though, the dial lighted when the receiver was picked up, serving as a night light for under covers during late-night calls with friends. The Princess Phone marked a celebration of life for a teenage girl and I celebrated every day!

Indulge in an Extra Suitcase

              Before Victoria ever whispered her Secret, Frederick’s gave women plenty of ideas, but the catalog store was too flamboyant for a precious little Southern girl with a good silver pattern. I oooh-la-la’d in day-dreams about possibilities for pretty, sexy lingerie.  Mix-n-match colors and patterns for “unmentionables” resulting in absolute feminine sexiness has always been part of my fashion couture. 

            During my pre-teen years, Barbie owned all the lingerie ensembles possible plus accessories, including the pink hair brush and mirror. She dressed in her blue or pink high-heeled bedroom slippers with the pompoms and pranced around in  baby-doll pajamas or gown and robe sets. She had a pink stuffed dog to take to her 4-poster bed, matching her "nighty-nite" set. The thing was, though:  the high-fashion outfits would not fit over the underwear.  I dressed her in the panties, bra, and straight slip and then the brocade, gold strapless sheath dress.  No chance that would work. It all bunched up, most unglamorously.  So….Barbie (whisper this) never wore any underwear under those designer outfits.  I don’t think Ken knew about that!
                Barbie’s fashion faux pas did not change my mind about underwear! I love lingerie, love choosing it, deciding with which outfits to wear which pieces. Just to give you a clue, I needed an additional suitcase to pack lingerie for my honeymoon in 1970. Baby-doll pjs, fancy nighties, pretty gowns with matching robes in sheer, pastel colors, white and cream peignoir sets- all were folded and placed in “night-by-night” order.  My short sets and sundresses were complimented with matching bras and panties and also arranged by day and activity.  I was all about dressing well, with no thoughts as to undressing.  In fact, I dressed and undressed in the privacy of the bathroom every night of my life, until….I didn’t.
              Nothing screams “pretty woman” like sexy angel-ware. It’s not a man telling us we are pretty, it’s us knowing we are pretty, especially as we treat ourselves to something that is not cotton, flannel, or discards from Hanes clearance rack.  Women selectively cover curves with a starched man’s white shirt or a long t-shirt, but under it all will be sexy lingerie, or a hint of it. It’s not so much providing a visual for the men in our lives, but it’s expressing our special feminine indulgences, even under jeans and sweater, or men’s shirts (a la Shania Twain).

                 If you have not listened to Victoria as she whispers to you, I’ll share my secret: enjoy your femininity, wiggle with a smile knowing the approval we’ve given ourselves as we dress for the day, indulging in soft and silky all day long.  Indulge, dazzle and, if necessary, pack an extra suitcase!

Fashion Memories: Taffeta and Crinoline

         What’s your first fashion memory?  I love the one my fellow-Scarlet (JBR) shares explaining how punishment for her was her mom explaining, “If you don’t quit throwing that fit, I’ll make you wear shorts to school instead of a dress!”  Oh, how she’d straighten up fast, because nothing could be worse than not being allowed to wear her cute dresses.  Other friends (CB, KG, KMA) explain the trials found in getting their little girls dressed for school each day. I get great pleasure as they share stories of choosing hairbows, tights, and all the other outfit-compliments that are a “must” for today’s primary graders. It was "Miss Priss" who introduced me to Fancy Nancy.
         My first memory of fashion had me accompanying my mother to department stores, and as she tried on clothes, I tried on all the hats! My preferences then bent toward ruffled sox and Mary-Jane flats along with circle skirts topping petticoats.  I have not outgrown the desire to swish in taffeta and twirl with crinoline. Of course, knee injuries from playing chase and hide and seek added a bruise and band-aid to the girly-girl image.
         Today, “really cute shoes” with complimentary handbags and jewelry, blouses and sweaters topped with pretty scarfs in my favorite colors fill My Fashion and Style boards on Pinterest. A couple of shops here have great fashion jewelry such as chandelier earrings and huge chunky rings. They also showcase wonderful scarfs and dresses for skinny people. Really pretty jewelry, whether costume jewelry or gold, sterling silver, always has been “oooh-la-la” to me. (Serendipity and Studio C in Paragould, Now and Then in Rector, and Feather Your Nest and The Treasure Chest in Piggott)
             When I recently examined a baby’s breath tiny pearl necklace and a teency heart bracelet engraved with my initials, my jewelry fascination was revealed. Rings, bracelets, necklaces can be had for “cheap” today, or you can swing by Jared’s to pick up a few Pandora charms.  Ask me about “Prom-Queen Forever” and “Lucy the Fish” charms.  Aren't you just tickled by the commercial on TV for the “Red Hot Love Bead?”

              Wearing pretty jewelry each day insists on manicured nails and a great haircut.  It’s fun to stack bracelets and rings, feeling Queenly, even in jeans in Rector. Just as an FYI, I don’t intend on carrying the Queen’s handbag! (subject of an upcoming Post!)

...but, It was Mostly Me!

             It is OOOOH, Not So Politically Correct to suggest that you might be the center of your own universe. Or, that the rotating, revolving moon orbits you as the earth does the sun.  Even Toby Keith wails that he’s tired of talking about me and wants to talk about himself.  Borrrring!
            Prissy’s (GWTW) portrayal, professing herself to be so very much more competent than she actually is, and getting lost in her own reverie as Atlanta burns around her, is not very flattering.  When Scarlet sends her for help from Rhett, for him to bring his carriage, Prissy is most hesitant for she must visit the home of Miss Belle Watling, red hair, red dress, red district!
            Prissy’s high-pitched summons (Mr. Rhett!  Mr. Rhett!) wakes the dead and has Rhett wondering aloud what Prissy could be doing out in Atlanta at this time of night, without Scarlet.  She confesses that Miss Scarlet has sent her to get help, not so much for herself, but for Miss Melanie who has just given birth to a “fine baby boy!”  When questioned as to the mid-wifery and the extent to which Scarlet has been called into womanhood and duty, Prissy speaks the line that I find absolutely perfect!

“Prissy,” exclaims Rhett, “did Miss Scarlet actually…??”  to which Prissy replies, “Miss Scarlet….she hepped; but, (in feigned timidity) IT WAS MOSTLY ME!”

           This BLOG will celebrate being a girl, a woman, a princess, and my desire to be Queen of my Entire Life.  Over the years, I have learned to get my own tiara so I can wear it year after year (thanks to Jill Conner Brown) and while I’m at it, I might as well get a pair of majorette boots – with tassels!
          I enjoy femininity and all the trimmings of being Fancy, even before Fancy was Cool!  Stay with me and chuckle as you see yourself through my Fantabulous Female Fantasy.  What’s wrong with life ooozing “mostly me?” Don’t be offended, please.  It’s all in good fun. If you will be honest, you’ll confess that we have much in common.  Just enjoy, laugh, and follow this blog.