Acting Your Age

On April 24, 2013 By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Career1 Comment

Today, I woke up a year younger. Somewhere between 27 and 27.5, I decided I was 28. I don’t know how it happened, or why it happened, but for the last few months I’ve been referring to myself as “almost 30,” with a slight lean towards 28 when asked to be more specific. I was filling out a form for work when I suddenly remembered, I’ve got a few months to go.

Where this age-identity crisis stems from is hard to pinpoint exactly. It might be because I have some friends in their late 30s who have embraced the identity of “almost 40” and it skewed my own sense of age.

Or maybe it’s because I thought 28 made me sound more legit as a professional. I’m working with a curator, who despite being brilliant, lovely, and one of the most receptive and collaboration-minded people I’ve ever worked with, has a penchant for condescension when it comes to me and my age. I can’t say I’ve ever been as aware of being in my 20s as I am when I’m on a studio visit with her — her intention is not to be demeaning every time she references my relative youth in front of the artists, but all of a sudden I feel a need to assert that I’m not fresh out of college.

This is what I learned to type on -- a typewriter. Ya, that's right. I remember life BEFORE computers. — This is what I learned to type on — a typewriter. Ya, that’s right. I remember life BEFORE computers.

I’ve even gone so far as to let my gray hair show. Hey, I learned to type on a typewriter, for Chrisssake.

Then again, I’ve always been suffering from an age identity crisis.

Cue flashback:

“You should be dating someone who is at least 21.”

So declared my South African god father at my 17th birthday dinner.

The entire table, including my parents, nodded adamantly in agreement. It’s true what they say: You don’t argue with the God Father.

I had just graduated from high school and had barely had a chance to get my head around the fact that, in a few months, I’d be living in New York City and fully immersed in that phase of life called College. I was a kid, and I knew it. But the general consensus at the time, and one that perpetuates among my friends and family to this very day, is that I’m older than my age.

I don’t really know what that means, but I do know that it took a long time for me to be able to relate to people “my own age” — I always preferred the company of people with a decade or 3 on me. Their stories are always better.

I’ve been characterized many a time as an “old-soul” — a characterization that is frequently undermined by the fact that I still, on most occasions, look like a 16 year old… despite my gray hair.

“Where are you going to college next year?” asked a teenage girl in the locker room at fencing practice.

“I’m done with college. And grad school…”

“Oh! How old are you?”

“27.”

“Oh Shit! You’re old!”

“Yes, and that’s why my body is held together with kt tape. But at least when I go home tonight I can have a cocktail. You have to stick to soda pop.”

And so, it seems, there is no end to this age identity crisis.

In my "old age" i might be held together by a lot of tape, but at least I can have a drink after practice — In my “old age” i might be held together by a lot of tape, but at least I can have a drink after practice

The Seam-Splitters

On February 28, 2013 By KathleenIn Bio Pics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’ve nick-named my thighs “the seam-splitters.”

Arguably, it’s not a very flattering nickname, and I’m sure you’re wondering why a young woman would want to give such a self-effacing and school-playground-teasing nickname to a part of her body. Or, perhaps you’re saying to me, “common, your thighs aren’t thaaaat big.”

No, really. They are. Just ask my wounded pants…

Right now there are 3 pairs of jeans draped over a wicker armchair in my bedroom, each a victim of the seam-splitters. One pair just returned from a tailor who painstaking reconstructed the upper legs with patches, as if the jean were an ancient, priceless Athenian terra cotta vase. The other two are awaiting the same treatment, though they are more likely destined for the trash.

None of these victims have seen more than a year of action, and yet, despite their youth, there they lay, the stitching along the inner thighs torn asunder, split and worn away — jeans in their prime, fatally maimed in the name of fashion.

I know the distressed/patched/custom look is always chic, but still.... — I know the distressed/patched/custom look is always chic, but still….

It’s a fate I prepare myself for every time I go shopping: the jeans I buy will split along the inner thighs. I’ve come to think of jeans as if they are pantyhose: not quite single use, but I shouldn’t get too attached — it’s only a matter of time before “tricks of the trade,” like applied clear nail polish or hairspray fail and the devastating run wins, rendering them unwearable.

I’ve learned to spot all the signs that a tear is pending, that the next wear will probably be my last. If I do find a winning pair, they get set aside as “special occasion” jeans. Sometimes, I just buy two right up front.

In high school, I wrote an essay for my AP English class entitled: I Run on Diesel. I was, of course, referring to the Italian denim brand that finally offered me a cut of jeans that seemed to accommodate what my father so kindly referred to as my “thunder thighs.” If there’s nothing else to take away from this look back on my teen years, its that my battle to find well-fitting, properly-enforced leg-wear has been lifelong…

What is a relatively new phenomenon is acceptance. This is just how I’m built. We all have those body areas that give us grief and make us self conscious. For most of my life, that area was my thighs. For years, I attacked fitness routines and diets promising trimmer legs. It was a mean twist of irony when, as I got fitter, my legs packed on muscle, so instead of shrinking, they got bigger. When I was a competitive athlete, my thunder thighs were an asset. Now that I’m retired, my main goal at the gym is to keep my thighs in seam-splitting shape.

Jeans, be warned.

I’ve learned to ❤ my thunder thighs, aka “The Seam Splitters”

What to do when You’re an Adult with a Snow Day

On February 8, 2013 By KathleenIn Bio PicsLeave a comment

We didn’t know we were looking for him, but Nemo found us and brought with him some friends: snow, sleet, winds, ice, closed offices, and a long weekend.

Booya!

When you’re a kid, snow means endless possibilities all of which allow you to throw off responsibilities, built forts and live in a world of storybook make believe. When you’re an adult, the opportunity to stay out of the office, off the roads, and forgo errands opens the doors to all sorts of “grown-up” activities. Here are a few thoughts about how to spend your snowed-in Nemo weekend.

Turn your living room into a yoga studio

Or a personal gym. For the last year, I’ve been receiving daily (or is it weekly?) emails from Women’s Health and Shape magazine with smart, fast, efficient at home workouts. They’ve been accumulating digital dust in my inbox as have the various resistant bands and kettle bells I’ve collected over the years (in my defense — I do have a gym membership that gets exercised 5 times a week). But the blizzard was a good excuse to see if that 8 minute workout really does the trick… summer abs, here I come, courtesy of Nemo.

Learn how to work your curling iron

I’m infamously terrible at using styling appliances. Even an eyeliner pencil has been turned into a near weapon in my presence. I thought the mastering of a diffuser to dry my curls was monumental. And then for Christmas, a thoughtful friend gave me a curling iron to “help me tame my tresses on opening nights!” I think I thought this was a good idea…. until the 3rd degree burn on my ear and the malfunction that somehow turned the curling iron into a flattening iron. How does that work?

By the time Nemo rolls through, I’ll be a styling pro.

Make homemade Valentines

It’s only a few days away, and hallmark isn’t what it used to be, let’s face it. Why not get crafty? Or, there’s always macaroni picture frame if greeting cards ain’t your thang.

Cook a big pot of soup

Or throw together a hearty cassoulet. If home-cooked meals are something you haven’t had a chance to do for a while, there’s no better excuse to make a big pot of some comfort food.

and now for my favorite…. last but not least….

Revert to being an 8 year old

Carelessly, frolic in the snow. Go sledding, build a snowman, make snow angels. Get as close to getting frostbite on your nose and fingertips as you can, and then come inside, shake off the snow, mull some wine or spike your cocoa before curling up in front of the fire, with your blankie.

When all else fails, reconnect with your inner child and go sledding

So, Let’s Hang Out? Considering “The End of Courtship”

On January 24, 2013 By KathleenIn Dating, relationships, romance2 Comments

“Ok. Let’s do this! Let’s hang out!”

I confess, I was caught completely off-guard. It wasn’t exactly the declaration of affection or attraction or, hell, even interest that I had hoped for from a guy I considered “most likely to be cast as leading man in the movie that is my life.”

"Let's do this!" was more game-time cheer than romance. I wanted romance. — “Let’s do this!” was more game-time cheer than romance. I wanted romance.

“Let’s do this!” was less romance and more pre-game pep-rally.

Were we going to jump off a cliff together? Maybe metaphorically. But if his “I want to hang out with you” was the 21st century equivalent of Mr. Darcy’s “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” then we were certainly in for a bumpy ride.

But such are the times we live in….

In all likelihood, you or someone you know shared that NYTimes Sunday Styles piece about dating in the age of texting and social media. About how traditional courtship has been replaced with the flippant one-offs of the hook-up generation.

For the most part, I thought the essay was a gross generalization that painted a bleak picture favoring an ever-increasing divorce rate.

But Alex Williams was on to something — “hanging out” has exited the realm of friendship and infiltrated the realm of courtship, leaving singles (particularly, single women) hoping to make the jump from “gone fishing!” to “got him!” in a perpetual state of confusion.

“Let’s hang out.”

When I was a college student with more male than female friends, this was something I heard fairly often. In those days, it’s meaning was crystal clear: we’re going to keep it casual, keep it low-key, throw on a movie or pull out a deck of cards, open a bottle, maybe some people will join us, and by the way, we’re going to keep it platonic.

Oh! How fast things change!

Imagine my surprise when, a half decade later, a “let’s hang out” has translated into everything from “I’d like to take you to dinner” to “let’s hook-up” to “I’d like this to be serious.”

“Hanging out” as a colloquialism is the new “hooking up” — an appropriately non-committal term that keeps your options open and your morning-after stories vague.

Saying "let's hang out" is like putting on a suit of armor to protect yourself from harm — Saying “let’s hang out” is like putting on a suit of armor to protect yourself from harm

It’s a sort of self-protective statement, one that doesn’t put your heart on the line while still implying an interest in spending time with the other person. A sort of “let’s see if we click as friends” is partially implied — and isn’t the fundamental base of a successful relationship a strong friendship? Isn’t it a good idea to see if you can be friends as well as lovers?

What’s the problem?

More of my 20-something friends are married or in domestic partnerships or engaged than are single. Is Williams’ point, that this behavior might be fostering the kind commitment-phobia that makes it more difficult for people to really develop worthwhile relationships, accurate?

Maybe it is and I just cultivate romantically stable people? (unlikely…. you’ve never met some of the guys I dated…)

Let’s be honest, if you’re an urban singleton, getting a foothold in the industry of your choosing, filling-up your time with friends and social groups, drinking up all your environment has to offer, the notion of keeping it casual when it comes to dating is your best laid plan (pun intended.)

Here’s the problem — it’s the phrase itself.

Instead of "hanging out" consult the thesaurus. Let's phase out that phrase — Instead of “hanging out” consult the thesaurus. Let’s phase out that phrase

“Hang out.” It’s still flippant, casual, an afterthought. If saying “I want to see you” carries implications of serious commitment and so you shy away, say you want to “get together” or say you want to do something specific.

We don’t need the guy that says “I want to spend every waking minute with you” (though, when faced with a choice between him and Mr. Let’s Hang Out, Mr. Let’s Hang Out is shown wanting). But it’s nice to feel like we’re more than an addition to a plan.

“Hanging out” leaves lots of things hanging in the air. And frankly, hanging out gets old quick. Before you know it, she/he will be hanging up the towel on this casual courtship and moving on.

Hello, 2013. I think we’re going to get along famously: Considering Resolutions

On January 3, 2013January 3, 2013 By KathleenIn Bio Pics6 Comments

The beautiful Waterford Crystal Ball atop Time Square touched down at midnight, marking the first day of 2013 for those partying in EST. Glass slippers were left on staircases up and down the eastern seaboard. At 12:02AM, ABC cut to commercial and America watched 2 ads for Weight Watcher’s new 360 plan. The second, which featured Jessica Simpson made me reach for another cupcake.

the weight watchers commercial made me reach for another cupcake.... happy new year! — the weight watchers commercial made me reach for another cupcake…. happy new year!

Soon there after, they cued the roll for eHarmony.

So, America, what are your top 2 New Year’s resolutions?

I’ve written about this before — how for the most part, I’ve given up on writing conventional, and arguably sensible New Year’s resolutions. No more “lose 10 pounds” or “find love.” Both of those have gone nowhere in the past (though, in 2012 I did drop a dress size… booya!…. and then, there were those roses….). Instead, I opted for mantras or theme-songs for the year.

My 2011 theme song was “Jump!” by Madonna. My theme poem was “Invictus.” My mantra was “make it work!” I should note, I was unemployed in January 2011.

2012 flew in and before I knew it, it was July. It seems I had forgotten to select a theme song or mantra, but I suppose Keep Calm and Carry On might have been a late-in-the-season pick up.

For 2013? I’ve had some thoughts…

Along with several bottle of Veuve Cliquot and Pommery sitting next to my recycle bin, there’s a stack of cheese paper and half torn labels that hint at triple-creme cheeses to suggest that I gave 2012 a graceful, indulgent and highly appropriate send off.

Apparently, the dieing words of John Maynard Keynes were: “I only wish I had drunk more champagne.”

Every New Year’s Eve I am reminded why he was so regretful. Bubbly is lovely.

2013 New Year’s resolution 1: Drink More Champagne.

In the past, I’ve secretly resolved to read more. This has typically started off well in that I used my lunch hour to browse the shelves at bookstores and came home with a stack of classics along with a few recent “notable” publications. 2012 was my most successful year. I read a whole 2 books.

The men in my life keep giving me massive books as gifts. In 2013, I resolve to read them.

For 2013, I joined a book club that will meet monthly around potluck wine & cheese parties. This is great because not only does it help me achieve New Year’s resolution 2 (read more books) it also helps me achieve resolutions 3 & 4 (join more clubs and drink more wine, respectively).

I’ve also resolved to do more yoga. The challenge with this one is not in finding the time, but making sure that it doesn’t run into conflicts with resolutions 1 and 4.

Next step: google yoga studios with open bar…..

Can we make that "Forever 27.5" cuz that sounds like me right now — Can we make that “Forever 27.5” cuz that sounds like me right now

When It’s Time to Ask Yourself: Do I want to Try to “Have it All”

On October 8, 2012 By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Career, marriage, New York City, relationships3 Comments

About a month ago, my closest male friend from college married the woman that became his better half. They’re a lovely couple, best friends really. They’re also both smart, funny, and driven career people. I admire them.

Marriage is an interesting thing. It changes everything. About a week ago, my friend’s new wife launched a call for help on facebook:

“To my ladies: do you think it is possible to have it all, amazing career and family life? Cause I really don’t see how one or both won’t suffer. Send some tips my way if u have any.”

We’re all her contemporaries, women in our late 20s, so most shrugged but praised their own mothers for somehow managing both a career and motherhood. Someone shared the famously talked about article in the Atlantic. Appropriate. I shared some advice I had heard a few days earlier from the keynote speaker at a luncheon…

Cut to the buffet spread in an upper crust Westchester suburban yacht club. Enter Judge Judy Sheindlin.

Judge Judy had some advice for the young women in the room about “having it all”

Yea, that’s right. THE Judge Judy.

I was at the Her Honor Mentoring 2012 kick-off luncheon. I had just re-met my mentee, a 17-year-old high school senior with a passion for all things art and aspirations to travel in adulthood. My fellow Mentors were the county’s leading businesswomen and government leaders. What was I doing there?

No matter. On to the speech:

“You may hear that you can’t have it all – a career and a family. But I’m living proof that you can have it all… if you learn how to negotiate…

In my day, you only left the house in either a white dress or a pine box. But I’m telling you that you don’t have to get married as a high school senior. Or as a freshman. Or as a sophomore or junior. Maybe, by the time you’re a senior you can start to look around to see if there’s anyone you find appealing. But just remember: you may have your act together when you’re 22, but they, well, they may not have their act together at 55.

So have your career. Set the bar for your career high and go out and achieve it. And then, and then start to look to have that family.”

It was a message I was surprised Judge Judy would share with a room full of college seniors yet to make their way and professional women who had all pursued unique paths in their lifetime. On the subject of “having it all,” it was surprisingly pragmatic. As I chuckled and applauded (I was the soul “ain’t that the truth, sister!” shouter in the room), it occurred to me that I was the youngest mentor.

I’m just starting in my career. Sometimes I feel like a little girl trying on her mother’s shoes…

Unlike the other “dynamic,” successful career women in the room, I was really just starting out.

My mother married my father when she was 17 and he was 21. Two weeks ago they celebrated their 51st wedding anniversary. If you do the math, that means they were married some 24 years before I was born. Over that quarter century, my mother made a career for herself, allowing her to retire as a top banking executive when I was starting high school.

Since the Atlantic article came out, there seems to have been another resurgence of feminist talk — or maybe it’s more of another re-evaluation of feminism.

Did you catch this Sunday NYTime’s Opinion piece by Alissa Quart? The one about women hiding their pregnancies in the professional world?

What about the brief speech by a new character on the Good Wife?

What about that other op-ed piece about the “Myth of Masculine Decline” in the work place?

I guess I never questioned the idea of “having it all.” I grew up with Judge Judy’s advice as my own game plan because it was a successful path I had watched unfold.

But then my own life began to happen.

I don’t have an answer for my Californian friend. Or for any young woman in our position. Frankly, no one really does.

Here’s what I can say…

The women of our generation are lucky because we have choices. We can choose to be career women. We can choose to be career mothers. We can choose to be both careerwomen and mothers. None of the above paths are easy — none are achieved without sacrificing or without negotiations.

As for me, well, the question of “having it all” isn’t as relevant now as it will be later. But I will say Nicole Sheindlin’s words from that luncheon have stayed with me.

A career is a woman’s insurance policy for independence and self-confidence.

True that, sister.

They Told Me to Find a Rich Husband

Tag: lifestyle