Twerk On/Twerk Off

Twerk On/Twerk Off

 

I was 12 when I began reading Glamour magazine. Now that I’m north of forty, I pick up a copy when the cover model is thirty and up. Thankfully Editor-in- Chief, Cindi Lieve has had a number of cover models who are or very near my age.
 

The January issue featured 20. Major Don’t: The Pornification of Everything by actress and writer, Rashida Jones who after spending time catching up on videos, Instagram and blogs with her sisters noticed the prevailing theme of twerking, stripper poles, G-strings and boobs wasn’t being pushed by people trying to get noticed but the already established mainstream stars. Leading her to say making your private parts public is now cool and expected. Ms. Jones said she didn’t get the memo and she’s not alone. I didn't either,
 

It was during the halftime performance of the Thanksgiving Day football game with the Detroit Lions when a 21 year-old Selena Gomez performed in a skimpy outfit in what had to be cold temperatures. To clarify, she wasn’t half naked but her outfit was more suited for the beach than Detroit, Michigan in November. Some may think we’re jealous because we’re older women now but let me tell you from the time I was 16 to 23 to put it in today’s terms I was hot in a pair of jeans and a shirt. I didn’t have to put my boobs on parade. I also had parents to make sure all my seams, hems, zippers and buttons were in place.
 

Like Ms. Jones, I am not a prude when it comes to sex. Although, I’m a mother to twin twenty-something sons, I’m comfortable with sexuality and have no problems discussing it in a frank, open manner. Although I am pretty sure my sons would prefer if I’d use a filter. I love my sons but not going to happen.
 

I’m older than Ms. Jones but I remember when Duran Duran’s Girl’s on Film video was too racy for MTV. By today’s standards it might as well be Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. Topless models with flesh colored G-strings, naked girls riding construction equipment, grabbing one’s vagina for a video or concert (makes me feel bad for all the hell the late Michael Jackson went through) is the norm. While everyone talks about the initial act it only lasts a minute. Why else would these artists be in such a hurry to put out another even more revealing video out? Chris Rock said it best “Here today. Gone today.”

I’m from Generation X which places me in the midst of the women’s movement and feminism. Gloria founded Ms. Magazine and Bella Abzug fought for women’s rights, equality in workplace, equal pay for equal work and the right to make decisions about our bodies. In a way all this gyrating, grinding and pasties is a step forward in owning sexuality. Conversely, it runs the risk of defining us by our sexuality as well even though we have the right to express it. In the movie The Accused, Jodie Foster portrayed Sarah Tobias a hard partying girl who is gang raped by three men and instead of putting the rapists on trial, Sarah’s character and past as a party girl is put on trial in an attempt to make her responsible for her rape. Granted it was a movie but it was based on a real life case.
I want to shake some of these women and tell them their actions have consequences as there is a whole generation of young girls looking to them as role models. Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez are from the Disney family. I imagine they are trying to break free of the Mickey Mouse image now that they’re adults and I get it. I hate to tell you but those same girls who watched you on the Disney channel are still watching and taking it all in.

While I could continue to point fingers at the pop stars, I have to call parents on the carpet too. They have a responsibility to monitor what their daughters watch and to be a role model for them everyday at home. As easy as it is to  blame Nikki Minaj, Rihanna, Miley, Selena and Kim Khardashian, parents can’t abdicate their role to slow the growing pornification of everything in their homes. Watch the little dancing/gyrating vignettes in between Disney shows then remember that Ed Sullivan could only show Elvis from the waist up on his variety show. As a parent. I feel for you. Our children believe we were born fully formed from the head of Zeus and were never teenagers.  We couldn't possibly imagine what it's like if you're not emulating the latest pop star du jour. I remember when my best friend and I wanted to imitate Madonna's eighties look. Our parents collectively said no. We had to live with not being cool then but it's great not having photos our children can blackmail us with now. Stick to your guns. I know it isn't easy and they'll hate you forever ( approximately a week last I checked) I promise. Everyone will live.

However when she addressed pop stars, Ms. Jones urged them to stop saying they don’t want to be role models because they are. I believe as the daughter of Quincy Jones, she knows what she's talking about. Many pop and reality stars have clothing lines, perfumes and other products they promote on television and on the racks at Kmart, Walmart and Sears. Obviously teens don't have discretionary income. Therefore they are after mom and dad's money, which means they have to accept everything that comes with it beyond dollars and cents.
 

Like Ms. Jones, I'm expressing and opinion and not the gospel. You have the right to do and say what you want. Nevertheless, I'm afraid we are getting awfully close to shouting "Fire!" in a crowded theater.

North of Forty Novel & Excerpt

Cecelia Carter, Sasha Simms and Nadine Peterson are three north of forty women who attained success in the bridal business and jewelry design lives through hard work, making the right connections and maintaining their personal lives with the men they love,

When they’re approached by a production company and network for a reality series about their successful lives, Cecelia owner of Lia Bridals has her reservations while Sasha, marketing VP for Lia Bridals and jewelry designer Nadine want to seize the opportunity. In spite of what she’d seen of reality shows, Cecelia signs on. The show, North of Forty wants to showcase sexy, successful lives over 40 the cameras prove to be scalpel deep and reveals more about their lives than they signed up for.

Although it’s said with age comes wisdom when reality television the cost is beyond money when personal situations aren’t on the cutting room floor but out for everyone to see. North of Forty is how these smart women figure out how to survive the spotlight of reality television and everything that comes with it.  

Excerpt from North of Forty http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H8JXUQ2

The very first time, six year-old Cecelia Carter went to New York City, the pretty plump little girl was in awe. She was fascinated by the garment district. Men moved with purpose as they wheeled racks of clothes in all directions on the sidewalks of fashion central. Most kids wouldn’t paid attention but Cecelia’s love for fashion came naturally. Her grandmothers, great grandmother and aunts were such talented seamstresses Cecelia preferred McCall’s pattern books to Highlight’s for Children. Fabric store trips were the equivalent of a kid loose in a candy or toy store. Instead of the latest dolls, chocolates and games, Cecelia got lost in notions and textiles. It came as no surprise when she skipped Seventeen and Tiger Beat in favor of Vogue, Essence, Glamour, Harper’s Bazaar, Women’s Wear Daily and Brides. She enjoyed the genesis of a designer’s idea on a sketch pad ultimately landing in the windows of her favorite department stores and on the pages of her favorite fashion magazine.

  When her friends and classmates received cars for their sweet sixteenth birthdays, Cecelia’s parents bought her a brand new Singer sewing machine to sit side by side with her great grandmother’s classic Singer. They also bought her a run around car to drive to the fabric stores whenever she wanted. It was a loving act but one of self-preservation, it allowed them to stay home or do whatever when they didn’t have the energy to drive her to the store whenever she was bitten by the fashion bug, which was quite often.

  With essentially several sets of wheels, Cecelia designed and sewed with a fervor most girls her age reserved for makeup, hair, boys and the latest teen heartthrobs. Nonetheless, Cecelia was focused on her career choice; she intended to be the next big fashion designer.  

 Considering the time she grew up, it was quite a goal for a girl who was 5’9, size 16 with a 38 DDD bust line. No one used descriptive terms like curvy, voluptuous, full figured or plus size. You were either a fat or big girl no one sugar coated anything.

Luckily Cecelia was built Ford tough inside and out. She sliced, diced or julienned anyone who dared ridicule her size. Her body was her God given vessel therefore you didn’t mess with Miss Cecelia’s yo-yo unless you wanted her to be pureed in an instant. This quality continued to serve her well once she was accepted into design school. Cecelia could cut a bitch down to size as easily as sheers through fabric and she made that clear on her first day in fashion design class.

To measure their skill level, the instructor assigned them with the task of pattern making. An excited Cecelia quickly went to work and pulled her medical exam paper, weights, ruler and pencil from her shoulder pack. She laid the pattern face up, weighted it, traced it with her ruler then labeled each pattern piece with seam allowances.

An obvious know it all young gun nearby talked shit about Cecelia’s old lady mu-mu pattern. Cecelia ignored him. Less than ten minutes later, he was awash with expletives in the midst of a deep designer crisis. Tired of the noise, Cecelia walked over.

“Where are the weights to anchor the pattern to the table?”

“That’s old school shit.”

“This is arts and crafts from grammar school.”  She pointed to his pattern. “That’s shit. Your cutting is sloppy and inaccurate and I guarantee you the pattern you wind up with is going to be at least two sizes larger than you intended. Personally, I like making larger patterns it gives me room to size up or down easily. However, you strike me as the type of designer who wants to dress the rich, famous and thin. At the rate you’re going you’re not going to get that accomplished. God’s Speed. Good luck.” She walked away.

“Aren’t you going to help me?”

“No. Trial and error buddy. If you want help ask the instructor. I’m a student like you. I have work to do as well.”

Cecelia finished ahead of everyone else. She wasn’t there to be Miss Congeniality. Besides, she knew anyone there was capable of stabbing her in the back with cutting shears. She kept an eye over her shoulder all through design school.

After graduating with honors, Cecelia worked for other designers and soon realized the real business of fashion was a far cry from the fabulousity displayed on the cover of Vogue and the sleekness of New York fashion week runways. Behind the glitz of September when the fashion elite, celebrities and media converge there were hissy fits, makeup artists clashes, last minute hair style changes, model tantrums, designer tantrums, uneven seams, misplaced darts, sewing machine issues, hand sewn hems 30 seconds before the cat walk and the more than occasional t minus 15 seconds to send a naked model down the runway. Real fashion wasn’t for the faint of heart.

As many starry eyed designers before her, Cecelia wanted to go it alone in fashion. She didn’t want to work for other designers forever. After work, her living room doubled as a design studio and business launch pad. She had the talent. All she needed was the nerve to leave the security of a steady paycheck. When that day arrived Cecelia invested in herself and launched Lia Bridals. Through hard work and good timing her bridal company’s stocks rose as she designed gowns for socialites to A, B and D List celebrities to excited brides on Main Street of any town USA.  Cecelia pushed the envelope with plus size gowns, she made plus size samples. After all, she was a big girl. Curvy brides weren’t afterthoughts at Lia Bridals.

The fashion grapevine thought her fashion gamble was noble but unsustainable. No one designed for plus sizes as a matter of course. Simply put it increased production costs across the board. Curvy brides could have their dream gown but most designers required they be special custom orders. Naturally the odds were against Cecelia with an average of eighteen months before the company folded. She ignored the talk, pressed forward with her vision and happily served up crow when Lia turned a substantial profit in year one with profits and visibility that continued to rise every year.  

Though satisfied by her success, Cecelia never rested on her laurels, she used the city as a veritable, movable, fashionable feast to ignite her creativity. New York tapped into the excitement she felt as a six-year-old and the usual traffic noise faded once she took out HP sketch pad.

Cecelia’s groove was interrupted by the sound of her IPhone. It was her fiancé, Roy. She grabbed her stylus pen to answer. “Hello?”

            “Hi baby. Are you on your way?”

“Yes. Naturally, I’m stuck in traffic.”

“Par for the course,” He laughed.

“True.” She watched a car cut them off. “What the fuck? I love how these jackasses make their own lanes.” She huffed.

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m a hostile driver and I’m a hostile back seat driver.”  

“Do me a favor.  Let the driver worry about traffic.” He paused. ”So how did it go today?”

“We’re moving ahead.”

“You don’t have to sound so excited.” He said facetiously.

“I still have reservations but I signed on. She looked out at the sea of brake lights all around the car. “I’ll fill you in whenever this traffic gets moving. God only knows when that’s going to happen.”

“Don’t worry. It’s an easy night. I ordered 2 large pizzas and a personal pizza for you.”

“You are such a doll. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Are you still using your stylus pen?”

While artistically inclined, Cecelia was a textbook tech-not when it came to phones.

 “Listen, you finally got me to use this flipping thing. I liked my old cell phone.”

“Honey it belonged in the Smithsonian.”

 “That might be true but it was so much easier to handle. I had to get this stylus pen because I began to wonder if I had opposable thumbs. The touch screen made me feel like I just wandered out of a glacier.”

Roy laughed. “Now you can text, check emails, keep up with Twitter and Facebook from the palm of your hand. I don’t remember how I survived without it.”

“As long as it rings, I’m happy.”

“You are too funny babe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh, my office is on the other line. I’d better take it. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Okay.” Cecelia sat back and looked around the spacious limousine with its bar. Premium liquors to make your decision go down easier, she nodded.  Mary Poppins used a teaspoon of sugar, they use Absolut. At my age it’s all the same. However if this goes south there isn’t enough sugar or liquor in the world to make it better. I hope haven’t sent my life to hell in a hand basket.