Imagine my dismay.
I’m standing in the doctor’s waiting room, all a-sparkle in my gold sequined scarf (and yes, I confess, with the crystal dangle earrings on, too). The glitter provides solace.
Only to be lectured by a well-known women’s magazine that to look more elegant and YOUNGER, I need to limit the sparkle. Less is more. Especially as you age.
I know, I know. I’ve been told all of this before, but forgot about in a rush of exuberance.
So, now I look old and inelegant. Great.
And I just posted yesterday on this blog my over the top paean to sparkle. With all those adjectives that make me happy just to say them. Shoot! I have no taste and now everybody knows!
The morning is going from bad to worse. And I haven’t even had my blood pressure taken yet….
Elegance. I love elegance. The word exudes the refinement and polish that I so admire in women like Audrey Hepburn. Courtliness. Poise. A certain je ne sais quoi. And, sure, I try for elegance as much as, or more than, the next woman.
But as inspiring as elegance can be, I have to say that exuberance carries her own special magic. The lavishness and superabundance of exuberance are infectious. Offering a sea of passion to dive into for all takers.
So, thanks anyway for the offer to dry up and dull down and get back in my box. But I think I’ll take a pass on that dark train.
Less may be more sometimes. But less of our enthusiasm and vibrance and generosity? Not so sure. As the late, great dame Mae West said, “Too much of a good thing can be wonderful.”