Can it really be Blogapalooz-Hour again? You know – that bewitching hour when we are given a topic by our ChicagoNow Grand Poobah and are expected, neigh, implored to produce a post of greatness in one hour. So, on to greatness!
This month’s topic is to discuss addiction – something we can’t live without.
As Roxy Music famously sang, Love is the Drug. (Great band, BTW, my millennial babies. Check them out!)
Not for me. For me, it’s lipstick and Ray-Ban sunglasses.
They’re such an addiction for me that I have it in my will that I’m to be wearing both when I’m laid out. I’m dead (!) serious.
Today, not so much. But I just can’t make it without lipstick. You will never see me without it, even in the dentist’s chair. The color may have changed through the years – as we broads age, the dark reds and purples of old make us look like hags, so we transcend (or should!) to pinks and nudes – but take my lipstick from me and I’ll kill you. Seriously.
My purse is laden with at least six lipsticks at any given time. I’m partial these days to lip crayons, which are neat. I always have a gamut of colors with me, in the event that I have to change clothing in the middle of the day for some, hopefully sexual, reason. It’s simply déclassé for the lip to clash with the ensemble.
Now, on to sunglasses. Here’s the prime directive: There are only Ray-Bans, there is no other brand. If you wear anything else, you aren’t wearing proper shades. (I will allow Persols, the brand of choice of the King of Cool, Steve McQueen. But that’s it.)
My dear Dad always wore Ray-Ban aviators. My first recollection of him is leaning over my playpen in my Grandma Frances’s back yard, talking to me and wearing his shades. Dad was a handsome cuss, and he looked so cool in them! So, naturally, my brother and I picked up on shades at a very early age thanks to Dad. We influenced quite few of our fellow-schoolmates (well, the cool ones!) in their sunglass selection.
I’ve worn shades since I could blink. I have friends who swear I came out of the womb in a pair of Wayfarers. My brother was the same way. In fact, we buried him in a pair of Ray-Ban aviators, swear to God. He carried the family addiction proudly to the grave!
My face just isn’t complete without lipstick and Ray-Bans.
So, ladies, if you have time to do nothing else before leaving the house, slip on some lipstick and don your Ray-Bans. You’ll look like a million bucks and might even have to sign some autographs.
Just make sure you spell my name right!
Thank you for reading! Now come orbit Planet Michelle! Just type in your e-mail address, over to the right and up, and you’ll receive each post I pull from my little monkey brain. No spam or name-selling, ever. My magnetic field awaits you!
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