laughs at 50 – Page 2 – fashionistafifty.com

Die-It

March 25, 2019by joannetickle2 Comments

I hate diets. I’ve never been good at them. If you know a kid who is being put on a diet or encouraged to diet please do whatever you can to dissuade them. Get them on a healthier lifestyle and not on a die-it.

In the past I tried the “only eat eggs diet”or … as I like to call it… “the continuous fart diet”, and the “only sip olive oil diet”, the fasting with oil, lemon juice and cyan pepper… that one almost killed me…. The Jenny Craig, The Aitkens… the “drink shakes that taste like sawdust diet”, and finally the Keto. I think any “diet” is not going to work if it’s a “diet”. As soon as you are off of it you will gain all your weight back. You must find a healthy way to maintain your sanity and be satisfied with what you are eating. Exercise is the key but sometimes things like Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, and other painful conditions, stop you from getting what you need. I find swimming, yoga and walking are always a pretty good way to get some necessary movement without jarring the body too much.

These days I try to avoid sugar, alcohol and cigarettes. I’m also not eating much pasta or bread. It’s not easy because food has always comforted me in times of stress. Eating a whole carton of Ben ‘N Jerry’s or Baskin Robin ice cream was a given when I was feeling depressed. I still watch my husband eat a whole bag of chocolate chip cookies, in one sitting, but I know I have to refrain. I don’t have a lot of self-discipline where sweets are concerned. It takes a lot of effort for me to pretend that they are poisonous and that he will turn blue and clutch his throat after getting crumbs all over the couch.

My friend Beth told me that Cher never weighs herself because she has kept an old pair of jeans in her closet and , throughout the years, has gauged her body by her ability to still get them on. I find that soul crushing. Trying to squeeze into an old pair of Wranglers… they didn’t have stretch jeans when I was in High School…. Would be akin to a mental anguish torture device. Lying down on my back and, sucking in everything as hard as I could, would still, not achieve beyond ankle level.

Being called “fat” (by my sister) growing up stuck with me. I will always be a fat person inside no matter what my outer appearance is. I work hard nowadays at accepting my body and embracing every roll and every wrinkle and strive to dress to enhance my shape in a positive way. It’s not easy. A mantra of “you are beautiful just the way you are” is easy to say, but to really accept, is almost laughable. Especially if you grew up in my house.

I have never judged other people’s body’s for their shape or size. I have only admired. I’ve met beautiful women who are a size 20 and beautiful women at a size 0. I honestly think there is beauty in all of us, however, I have always been super judgmental of myself. I cannot see myself through an unemotional eye.

I would love to be 3 or 4 inches taller, but I think I’m shrinking, so it’s not going to happen and, I accept what I have, so the glass is always half full. Especially if it’s a wine glass.

I like to drink wine and have the occasional cocktail. It’s funny that I can’t consume like I did in the old days. I used to be able to down a whole bottle without suffering too horribly the next day… but now … it is a head-achy, pasty, puffy, foul mouthed monster that surfaces after a night of over indulgence. If that happens, I usually give up all consumption for at least 3 or 4 months. Currently I am having the odd night out where I drink but still trying to keep a lid on it. I also drink loads of water.

I have to say giving up sugar has been difficult but I do feel so much better. I feel less anxious and not as run down. It was worth it for me to make the effort. I do have a tiny bit of sugar when I drink white wine but I always buy the lowest sugar content and tend to make spritzers. I don’t drink red wine anymore because it gives me heartburn and bad headaches. Oh my god! I really sound like a geezer now.

I don’t beat myself up if I have the occasional pizza or plate of spaghetti on a night out with friends. If I gain weight, that’s cool, as long as I am not feeling sluggish and tired. That is a signal to me that I have to do something in order to feel good again.

My favorite type of person is the one who is confident. I am in awe of friends who exude happiness and vitality no matter what. They draw people to them. I grew up in a house that was soul crushing so I am still working through all of that in order to become more confident in who I am. Some days are good and some days are bad on this roller coaster of life.

My goal is to age gracefully, and of course , make a statement, and continue to maintain a sense of humor. I have a great example in my mother in law Margaret who is the picture of health and beauty. She eats right and exercises daily. She’s awesome. If I can manage that, the future is going to be OK.

No more Die-It’s for me!

Thanks for reading!

Have a great day.

Fashion, laughs at 50

Poke My Eyes Out Please

March 23, 2019March 23, 2019by joannetickle1 Comment

There are some things that should never ever be revisited in my opinion. Some things that make my skin crawl at the memory of “going there.” For example; mom jeans.I cannot believe that fashion designers thought this was a look that deserved to be seen again. I cringed when I saw them reappear in stores in 2016. When they were introduced originally, I’m not sure if it was comfort, or just a sudden need to change things up in the 1980’s , but I have never thought they were flattering to anyone. A rounded, high-waisted, pot belly container with puckered front pockets, encased us and fell to a tapered leg. When they first arrived on the scene, I actually combined those with “Earth Shoes”.. the anti -heeled shoe that encouraged a bizarre duck-walk, (supposedly good for the spine), and thus, a fashion sex repellent was invented.

I also remember wearing, pale violet, high waisted, corduroy “elephant pants”, which were tight up to the bust line and then fell straight to a really wide leg, and at my height of 5’4”, I was a walking drawing of a rectangle. Carefully making my way through the hallways in High School, with a really wide gait, to prevent the legs wrapping around me and depositing me on the ground like a freshly stuffed Burrito. I secretly knew this wasn’t my best fashion moment.

It takes wisdom and a developed eye to see the whole picture when you look into a mirror. When I was younger I saw the clothes only ,and not the whole package. In those days we didn’t have cell phones with instant cameras and, if we owned a Polaroid , the film was so expensive we took photos of our friends on special occasions. Rarely photos of ourselves.

I don’t want to be biased here because men were not exempt from bad fashion ideas either.

I do not miss the “Kiss” boot or platformed high heel shoe for men. The chunky Frankenstein shoe that transformed a man’s gait into that of an Andalusian Dancing horse should have been designated for rock bands on stage only and not boys in Highschool trying to be cool. NO one could be David Bowie except David Bowie. I remember going on a date with a boy who took me to the movies and when he parked the car he changed out of his sneakers and put on a bright red pair of platforms to go into the Theatre. I was horrified. (He, of course, couldn’t drive in them because they were four- inches high. ) When we walked in the building he was greeted by a giant, grand, staircase down to the cinemas. He bravely took the first step, tripped up, and, with his wobbly legs, ran full speed, flailing, completely out of control down the stair case, nailing the landing only by flipping onto his knees and bowing at a passing couple.

Needless to say, that was the last date because I could not stop laughing. We can be so heartless at that age.

I think I have a much more compassionate outlook these days. I try not to laugh when I see a young man whose pants hang belong bum level with the crotch sweeping the pavement as they shuffle along. It’s not my thing but I get the need to feel cutting edge, especially when you are young, even if it looks like you are carrying a full load in your pants.

There should always be creativity in fashion and I am definitely drawn to that. I love seeing vintage combined with futuristic looks. Currently, I love a classic little black dress, designed by Maggie London, which is form fitting and has an illusion collar. It’s beautiful. I love a parachute skirt with a corset waist combined with a white blouse, combat boots and a leather jacket. I love some of the Steampunk and Victorian jackets that you can find in Goth Stores.

I love a good pair of jeans with a rock and roll tee-shirt.

But please burn the mom jeans, elephant pants and Frankenstein boots because they make me want to literally poke my own eyes out.

As an aside, there are some extremely tall, thin, women who look fabulous in an elephant pant. I am super jealous.

Have a great day!

Fashion, laughs at 50

ICONS of Style

March 18, 2019by joannetickleLeave a Comment

It was recently International Women’s Day and so I’ve been thinking about who I admire in terms of style. My fashion icons. Some of my style icons will always stand the test of time. Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly and Greta Garbo, Marilyn Monroe. Audrey for her capris pants and ballet flats and her waif appearance. Grace Kelly for her incredible perfection in a dress, a suit, or slacks, making beauty look effortless and easy. Greta Garbo for her fashion forward sensibility in wearing a man’s tuxedo pant and white shirt. And Marilyn for oozing sex appeal in everything she wore. Those nude backless dresses with tiny crystals covering the naughty bits are incredible. Also, the Marilyn in slacks with a kerchief on her head and sporting a pair of cats eye sunglasses was so cool.

I am also drawn to creative women in rock and roll and the arts. Especially those that are daring, with an ability to defy the sands of time to remain exciting and vibrant at any age.

Deborah Harry has the classic beauty of a Marylin Monroe. I mean, she could wear a paper bag and still look gorgeous. I especially loved her, in her most simple, in jeans and a tee-shirt. I love to wear a good rock and roll tee and some great jeans with a leather jacket. It’s really one of my favorite combinations.

Another icon for me is Poison Ivy from The Cramps. The body suits and leopard patterns and hot pants and high boots. She is a walking, guitar slinging, pin up girl. I love her confidence because I can’t wear the short shorts or bra’s without sending the masses screaming and poking out their own eyes, so I really admire her and love her look.

I love Cindy Lauper for her ability to be a crazy explosion of colour in a crinoline and combat boots or transform into a 1950’s telephone operator with yellow hair.

Lastly the muse of the Rolling Stones the late Anita Pallenberg. She was so interesting. When I think of her, I think of hats, sunglasses, boots, belts and jewellery. She also loved to wear fur. Not politically correct at all but she didn’t seem to give a shit. She embraced change and did not cling to things gone by. She was a strong woman who lived life the way she wanted to. She was beautiful up until the day she died at the age of 75.

OK, I lied. I just thought of the late Edie Sedgwick, the muse of Andy Warhol. With her striped boat neck tee shirt and black tights and her short blonde, pixie hair, dark brows and large earrings, she was the picture of cool. I have embraced that look throughout the years. It’s kind of a classic that never goes out of style.

There are a lot of others that I didn’t mention like the ultimate chameleon Madonna and, of course, the current queen of creative fashion, Lady Ga Ga but I wanted to talk about the icons that I have admired for a long long time. I’m also not twenty.

Whoever you admire and whatever you are wearing I hope it inspires you to get out and have the best day possible.

Till next time!

Fashion, laughs at 50

Torture Me Beautiful

February 24, 2019by joannetickleLeave a Comment

It’s Academy Awards weekend and, in honour of that, I decided to do a little old school beauty practice.

There have always been beauty secrets and regimes to keep us looking youthful. My mother never used soap on her face because she said it was too drying and took the essential oils out of her skin. She used Ponds Cold Cream Cleanser. At night she would smear it all over her face and then wipe it off with a wash cloth. I remember her looking shiny, sitting on the couch, watching Ed Sullivan. She used it in the morning as well before applying her makeup. She didn’t use face makeup at all, only eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. She also penciled her eyebrows a little to make them a bit darker.

Joan Crawford was the original diva in terms of a strict beauty routine.

She also used the Ponds Cold Cream method but she was mostly famous for her ice water splashes.

I have decided for the purposes of this blog to try out her beauty methods for 5 days and see what happens. Hopefully I do not end up removing my protective epidermal layer exposing a pulsing, vein throbbing, mass that used to be my face. It could happen if I’m too heavy handed on the exfoliation with a rough washcloth and a numbed frozen face.

I could also end up resurrecting my connect-the-dot pimple phase from high school which will leave me house bound. At least it is winter and looking outside into the desolate tundra of my farm I think there is no better time for this experiment.

Day 1

I awoke and filled a large bowl with freezing water and then added ice cubes. I let that sit for a couple of minutes just to make sure it had achieved its ultimate torture temperature. I then splashed my face with this water 25 times, which is supposedly what Joan Crawford did every time she washed! At the end of my 25 splashes there was water all over my bathroom mirror, counter and floor. The worst part is the fact that I had no feeling in my hands, and a slight brain freeze, like the kind you get when you drink a slushy too fast.

I then applied a vat of Elizabeth Arden’s Perpetual Moisture 24 Cream all over the block of ice that was now my face. I was surprised when it absorbed into my skin. My skin did feel more alive and not just sitting there on my face asleep… like it usually does… so there is that.

After suffering through today with the splashes and creams I’m ready for tomorrow. Oddly, my skin feels kind of dry and tight. It’s not what I expected. I’ve got my sleep mask to put on over, yet another eye cream, and I’ll awake tomorrow with another ice splash. I think she must have been a Sadist.

Day 2

Beauty is no fun. I have repeated the routine from day 1. I’m wondering if I will get used to this by the end of the week and look forward to it. If this ends up becoming part of my daily routine I will eat my…. dinner. I’m not good at punishing myself. I haven’t really noticed any difference in my skin.

DAY 3

I have to admit I am sort of enjoying the splash today. I like the feeling afterwards. It’s still really horrible on my hands, to submerge them in arctic water, but it is a great way to wake up.

I’m not looking forward to tomorrow because I’m going to do Joan’s hair wash. She also liked to finish off her showers with freezing water. I don’t mind the arctic dip at the Body Blitz Spa because afterwards you can drop into the hot tub, and it feels really great, but I don’t have a hot tub and my shower is on a different floor than my bath and this is getting too complicated. It’s also winter, so the last thing I want to do is douse myself with freezing water. Maybe I should do the snow roll instead? No… a better idea is to pass on this step altogether. My skin is feeling pretty soft today.

DAY 4

Joan liked to rinse her hair with 6 raw eggs, adding some red wine or rum to dilute the eggs a bit. Seems like a waste but I’ll try it. I’ll use the cooking wine. Actually, I’m sober right now, so I will use whatever is collecting dust in the liquor cabinet.. not the Bailey’s though because that would be a sticky mess, and I’d be too tempted to make French Toast. I’m only going to use 2 eggs since I don’t have thick hair like she did. I’m a bit nervous about this one because my hair is currently coloured and needs a lot of moisture. Perhaps it will be nourished with the mayonnaise mask. Ewwwwww! The smell is so horrible. I swear if I apply this mask and start craving egg salad I will barf. My hair is fine and so this could be a big mistake. I think that the oily texture of the mayo will give me a grease cap and probably won’t rinse out. I’ll try it at least once. I have some organic real mayonnaise without preservatives so it is probably exactly what Joan would have used. I’m not sure what order she did this so I’ve chosen to do the mayo mask first… then I’ll wash that out with shampoo and then I’ll apply the egg wash. I feel like I’m making Spanakopita minus the spinach and phyllo.

I was right about the mayo mask smell and I’m forced to put a freezer bag over my head to keep from gagging. I will not post a picture of this because, like Medusa, you will all turn to stone upon the sight of me. Next up, I jumped into the shower and tried to get the goop out of my hair. I did a shampoo twice and then added the slimy cold egg wash. I allowed that to sit for a good five minutes and then rinsed that out. It was horrible. My hair actually still felt dry even when I was submerged under water! How does that happen? I tried to get a comb through it but it was tangled from the egg rinse so I had to use some conditioner. I guess that is cheating but I had no choice. My hair was a “rats nest” as my mother used to say. The conditioner worked, thankfully, and I combed it out. I used “Lottabody Setting Lotion” because my next move was to pin curl my hair into one of Joan’s curly styles when she wore her hair down. In later years she would always have an up-do but I’m going for the more difficult style. If it bombs then I’ll use a turban. I have this crazy attachment for my blow dryer that is a big cap to recreate an old school hair dryer.

Finally ,after several clumsy attempts, I am all pinned up for the reveal tomorrow and sitting under my portable dryer; cooking my head.

DAY 5

It’s Academy Awards night and I’ve got some work to do.

Joan had a very distinct makeup application. She was all about the brows and the lips… and boric acid. Seriously. She put boric acid, mixed with water, into her eyes to keep them white and bright. Maybe that was to also keep the hangover eyeball in check… who knows… but I will not be attempting that. I’ve only got one good eye.

First I need to comb out my pin curls and I’m having a flashback to when my mother gave me a “Toni Home Permanent” and the rollers were too tight. I ended up looking like a dandelion before the wind catches it and it becomes bald.

I’ve combed it out and the result is not horrible but I wouldn’t leave the house like this.

I’ve also applied the exaggerated makeup and, if I’m honest, it’s really scary. I’m not a professional makeup artist so I have done my best to get the essence of Miss Crawford. My lips look a little more “Joker” than Joan.

It would have been hard to be Joan… so obsessed with her appearance. I can’t imagine the difficulty she must have had with aging.

So how did my 5 days pan out?

I will say that there is a possibility I’ll use the Pond’s for a little while longer, partly because it’s not expensive, and partly because it’s been around since the 1950’s, and it doesn’t seem to be causing any breakouts. It also doesn’t seem to be drying my skin like I originally thought. I like the calming effect it gives my skin after I remove my makeup. It is a tad greasy at first but it dissipates.

I also hate to admit that I may continue…at least for a little while.. with the dreaded ice splash because it wakes me up and my skin looks vibrant after.

As far as the hair routine, I will never EVER try that concoction again.

We have great products nowadays that will give you the shiny hair that Joan was so desperate to achieve. I’m picky when it comes to my conditioner and shampoo. I usually have Frederic Fekkai on hand. I’ve tried most of his products and they work for my hair type. Recently my hair salon sold me some Goldwell conditioner that is specifically meant for coloured hair. I have only used it a couple of times but I like the light texture and the results. So, Joan’s home made recipes for the hair should stay in the kitchen where they belong.

Joan Crawford was a movie star and she knew it. She lived each day like she was on the cover of Photoplay Magazine. I doubt that she ever left the house without full hair and makeup. I can’t imagine her running to the grocery store in tights, a sweatshirt and a toque on her head which is one of my routines. She had access to hair and makeup experts but I really think she did a lot of her own maintenance. She worked hard at being beautiful and who knows how much of it was just her great genetics and how much was due to her diligence in using freezing cold water and slathering creams on her face and neck for hours at a time. I give her credit for her absolute commitment but I just can’t spend that much time torturing myself.

Besides, there is one thing that we have and Joan did not …. Botox!

Happy Academy Awards night!

Fashion, laughs at 50

Fifty Schmifty

January 23, 2019by joannetickleLeave a Comment

When I turned fifty it was weird. There was a big surprise party and music and friends and family ,and yet, I felt a bit creep’d out. I felt ashamed for being that old all of a sudden and I had a flash of my mother, at 50, as she began her descent into the older woman syndrome.
Close cut short permed hair, stretchy pants, an overly embellished sweater and sensible flat shoes. The saggy bum of those shapeless, navy polyester’s, lent the observer to picture a loaded diaper beneath. The gorilla shaped sweater with the huge pieces of reflective mirror,
and plastic gems bedazzled all over it, and those black, faux suede, men’s- slipper inspired ladies’ shoes will never be erased from my memory banks.
My mother had gone from a fashionable woman who bought expensive crepe and silk dresses from Italy to a Sears bargain hunter. It was the 1970’s.
I still have her oldest dresses hanging in my closet. They are gorgeous and timeless …and I can’t fit into a single one. The last time I wore them was at the age of 18 and after that I became “big boned” with “lovely skin”.
When I was very young it was important for me to look like my friends and we all shopped at the same stores and bought the same clothes. We went to the same hair dresser and had the same haircuts. Here is the thing though; everyone has a different body type and skin tone and just because hot pink looks good on my best friend does not mean it looks good on me. In fact, it brought out the rosacea that I didn’t even know existed until it was highlighted by a hideous pink neon.
As I got older, I realized that freedom of expression and creativity could be blasted out to the world through our appearance. A light bulb went off as I entered my punk phase. Stealing my mom’s red, pointy toed, curling boots; shredding a couple of miniskirts; slapping on fishnet tights and hair spraying myself into a spikey rooster, I’d hit the clubs to pogo the night away. I’d look around the scene with my black coal rimmed eyes and see another 75 carbon copies of myself but I still felt like I was a rebel and doing something different. I was an individual.
I then had a chameleon phase in college where I would be whatever the situation called for. If I was going to see The Grateful Dead I would be a hippy. If I was going to see Elvis Costello I was a new wave punk. If I was going to see the B-52’s I had the biggest bee-hive. It allowed me to experiment with different looks and find whatever felt more like me.
At some point, I realized that they were all me.
Turning fifty. Turning fifty gave me an epiphany. I see that with age comes absolute freedom to express yourself. Some rules do apply though: do not wear something so short that you are exposing your sagging arse and, at some point, you’ve got to cover up that Neanderthal wrinkler cleavage. Getting older sucks but there are ways to celebrate the, “I no longer give a shit” period of our lives.
Working in the film business has allowed me to present myself at work in whatever phase I was going through, finally landing where I am today.
My philosophy is this. Dress for how you are feeling. Don’t let your best dresses hang in your closet waiting for the right opportunity to wear them. Combine fancy with casual. Experiment because, at your age, you can be eccentric now.
With some laughs and fashion ,and loads of makeup, I think I’ll get through this next stage of my life,
I hope you enjoy my posts geared for those of us who are in our “golden years”. Barf.