Mary Ann Hayes

Remember when every one of us girls wanted to be “Jeanie” for Halloween? If it wasn’t Jeanie, it was a look close to it. Sexy, adorable, alluring. We had flat tummies, trim thighs and firm arms. Everthing was right where it was supposed to be. Weren’t those the days?

Now, we’re rushing out the door to get those priests and nun costumes featuring long black flowing  robes that leave us covered from head to toe, before they’re sold out.  It’s also fun at this age to be  pumpkins or M & M’s or a full moon as the costume intentionally adds forty extra pounds to our frames, but looks cute as a bug, or so we tell each other.

This year, I wore an old fashioned flapper dress. It was longish, and covered me well. I like all the fringe because it kind of covers up whats underneith. I had a fluffy pink boa that shed everywhere I went but also covered me up because it was wrapped around my arms and neck and everywhere. I also wore a nice feathery something or other on my head that kind of took care of the hair. Not only that but my legs were well hidden in black stockings and I wore sensible one inche heels.

It worked out well. I was free as a bird under my layers of fringe and feathers and blackness. There was so much going on, it was hard to tell a person was under it all. Oh, the joys of costuming when you still want to look like Barbara Eden did thirty years ago yet reality says you look like…well, you know, like we look!

It’s a good thing we need only submit ourselves to the humiliation of it all once a year. Any more than that and I’m afraid it would be all over for me. I think next year I’ll be a hippo. Do they make costumes for hippos? Just think how much fun that would be. A huge costume, monsterous even, a tough hide, and as expected, an enormous appetite.  I’ll bring my own trough. Maybe fill it with chocolates. That would be fun.

Well, I guess we can’t be little Jeanies in a bottle forever. Actually, not for any amount of time at all! It’s just that the limited exposure we’ve had in that glamorous time of life is here and gone in the time it takes to cross your arms and nod your heard. It was over before you realized it began. What we’re left with is the longing to live in that moment just long enough to build a solid memory. One we can rely on for afirmation.

Yes, it’s true. We’re not Jeanie any more. But that’s okay.

Later,

Mary Ann