I already blogged about this eleven years ago, so apparently I have a problem. I am haunted by the ghost of a movie star.
"A woman should retire her arms at thirty," the actress Nina Foch often infused our film class with life lessons and her beliefs about femininity. It was 1994. She was a sophisticated, beautiful seventy. Her teaching uniform consisted of black flowy pants and matching blouses pinned with a fresh gardenia picked that morning from her garden to mirror the white of her hair. Black and white like the films she starred in.
She was of another generation that survived without OrangeTheory, CorePower and 24-Hour Fitness. She stayed thin by a diet of Snapple and Smartfood popcorn because, I recall her saying, she owned stock in them. So, I forgave her for her old-fashioned ideas about beauty.
But I did not forget. Thirty years later, with my invisible biceps and softer triceps, I search for nice dresses with short sleeves.
Like Ms. Foch did in 1994, I have a uniform – my dog-walking clothes – skort, t-shirt, running shoes. My closet shelves hold books because I collect them, not shoes. Still, when I dress up, I am picky. I want to mix pretty with appropriate, comfortable, and sophisticated. When I find that combination, it is sleeveless. But thanks to the ghost, no matter how good the rest of me looks, I increasingly focus on my arms.
"A woman should retire her arms at thirty," she said, taking another sip of her Snapple.
The current puffy-sleeve style looks silly on anyone over twelve. Long sleeves are too warm for women suffering from hot flashes and climate change. And who on earth looks good in cap-sleeves?
Of course I see short sleeve dresses out there. Some look like the old Lanz nightgowns our mothers used to wear or camping tents as if those of us choosing short sleeves should hide ourselves completely.
Some are so short, butt-hugging, and breast-revealing that a woman my age with a normal body and self-respect should probably choose something else. Then there are the very tailored dresses that demand the perfect hourglass shape, requiring a tailor for the tailored. Or the material is chintzy. Or it shows sweat. Or the price is shocking.
"A woman should retire her arms at thirty," she said.
Now that I'm closer to Ms. Foch's age than I was when I took her class, I can say I tried. I just can't find the dress.
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