Old is the New New
My New Year's resolution is to be a Sixties vixen.
You know the type, right? Has there ever been a sexier look? I love the teased hair and the liquid eyeliner, the pale lipstick, the short skirts, the boots (manufactured, if I recall correctly, for the express purpose of walking).
Actually I prefer the boudoir version of the look, with foofy, low-cut chiffon babydoll negligees, and marabou slippers, and upswept hair adorned with lots of little flowers. Like Deborah Kerr in Casino Royale (the movie, not the shady, warehouse-like dive down on Saturn). That - oh yes. That is totally going to be my new and improved look for 2006. It's elegant! It's glamorous! It's impractical! Darling, it's moi!
It probably goes without saying at this point that I received a Burt Bacharach compilation CD for Christmas.
And of course the ultimate accessory for the 60s-sex-romp look would have to be Tom Jones; or, if he's booked up for the season, someone equally able to address a girl as "pussycat" in a joyful and lascivious manner. I don't have one of those; and I suppose if you want to get technical, my marriage vows might be interpreted to preclude me from acquiring one. Still, a girl can dream of someone to croon to her about how "soon I'll be kissing your sweet little pussycat lips."
"Cats don't have lips," my 13-year-old remarks at this point in the song; and it's uncharacteristically pedantic of her, I might add.
"He's talking about a girl," retorts the four-and-a-half-year-old. "Gawwwwwd."
There's a good reason 60s sex kittens didn't usually have kids.
Well, 2005 rolls out, and 2006 rolls in; like many people, I have great ambitions for the new year - it feels so shiny and hopeful. And I'll have a new home, and a new job to start off the year with; which makes me luckier than many. At least it makes me a great deal luckier than the 50-odd hapless souls remaining behind with my soon-to-be-ex employer. Whether it makes me luckier than Deborah Kerr remains to be seen; though I suppose if I show up to my new job in the foofy chiffon negligee, I could do pretty well for myself...
I'll probably content myself with wearing a little extra mascara and humming "The Look of Love" under my breath.