She's Not Getting Older, She's Getting...

Iris Apfel is my hero. For those of you who don't know who she is, this is Iris.

Photo by Martha Camarillo taken in the 70's

Iris Apfel is a 91 year old New Yorker and long time interior designer. Her wardrobe is so eccentric, flamboyant and memorable that parts of it have been displayed at the Metropolitan Museum. During recent years, I have been impressed by interviews with this very vibrant and intelligent woman. I am also awed by her daring style. She has become so well known in her later life that she refers to herself as a "geriatric starlet." Her best fashion hint for anyone is to "accessorize". She clearly doesn't believe that "less is more", but rather, the bigger, bolder and brighter, the better. 
I suppose what appeals to me most about Iris is her zest for life. I'm reminded of a quote by Loretta Laroche, "life is short, wear your party pants." Iris always seems to wear her party pants. She lives life more fully than some people half her age.  

"In The Gloss", January 2012, quoted Iris as saying, "Getting older ain’t for sissies...You have to push yourself when you’re older, because it’s very easy to fall into the trap....I think doing things and being active is very important. When your mind is busy, you don’t hurt so much."

Words to live by.

So now, Iris is "pushing herself" with lines of cosmetics and eyeglasses, by lecturing at a university and by selling jewellery on a home shopping channel. Way to go Iris!

Some time after retirement, I disposed of my thematic shirts, socks and jewellery. The style I once had could best be described as "early primary teacher" and was now no longer appropriate. Gone are the penguin socks, the scarecrow shirt, the carrot earrings, the duck necklace....well, maybe not the duck necklace. I noticed that my former fun and playful clothing items were being replaced by somewhat dismall looking dark and dreary clothing. Short of running out to the dollar store, buying a red boa and tossing it over whatever I wore, (something on my bucket "to do" list), I began to consider. How could I become more trendy, if not vivid? How could I better present myself in a way that matched what's inside my head?

I looked around at some young people in the hopes of finding direction. The droopy drawer pants style wasn't for me. Neither was I interested in becoming ***" The Illustrated Man" or in this case, woman, despite the overabundance of local tattoo parlors. Spikey moussed blue hair was a possibility, but why push it? It'll be that colour soon enough. Piercings? I have some those and I'm not good with unnecessary pain. Besides, these are fads which masses of people follow, all the while claiming that they are trying to express their individuality. As Iris says, "If you don't dress like everyone else, you don't have to think like everyone else."

Finally, I made a decision. I will make over my wardrobe one piece at a time. I will adopt the Iris Apfel "rules"...do not go sleeveless when you're older, mix, match or mismatch everything, add texture. Cheap clothes are just fine BUT you MUST accessorize!
  

Thanks Iris. I believe I have found a new me. What do you think?

Hilde Von Apfelkroft

***a book by science fiction author Ray Bradbury, penned sometime around my birth year

Why Weight? Confessions of a Career Dieter

I know this might come as a huge shock to all three of my loyal readers, but I am overweight. I have a fat problem. I'm probably not described as morbidly obese, but then I'm afraid to check a medical dictionary for a specific definition of that term. I don't have hundreds of pounds to lose, however, I am considerably beyond an acceptable weight for my ever shrinking height. I am also well over an acceptable weight for my ever shrinking wardrobe.  
                                                      

With age, my shape has become unusual if not unbalanced. I now look much more like SpongeBob Square Pants with the skinny legs eminating from a rectangular upper body. On the bright side, I have been noting that this physique is common to about a third of women my age.                                                  
                          
I always tell myself that I'm in good company when it comes to my weight. After all, Oprah is hefty, and has been for most of her tv life.  Despite her private pain and public struggles with weight, despite having money, having chefs and trainers, she's still not a small woman.

 I don't blame anyone for my "fluffiness". There were no magazines with skinny models or tv shows with anorexic actors that caused me to have body image problems. I think arguments to that effect are excuses at best. In fact, too many people use excuses for their shortcomings...."I don't have time, my kids... my job...my husband, I'm too tired... too stressed...." and so on and so on.

On the other hand, some peoples' struggles, with weight or whatever the issues, might be traced back to childhood. I certainly remember being called "fat" by my peers. Strange though as I look at photos from my youth, I realize that I not only looked absolutely normal but I was even bordering on slim. I think that there must have been different reasons why I was sometimes called names. Not only did my classmates have their own insecurities, but also, now that I'm slightly more mature, I have come to understand that they were obviously jealous. Besides having the splendid name of a saint, I always sported the most lovely pair of laced up Buster Brown shoes to accessorize my pretty pink party dress. Envy, I see it now. That's all it was.

My leanest years were in my twenties when I lived on the 10th floor of an apartment building which, because of an unfortunate union dispute, had no elevator. I was fit, and the stairs were a breeze, even on laundry day. I owned no car, walked everywhere and played squash with my friends. After awhile, a car and an elevator arrived on the scene, parties increased, physical activities slowed down, and weight began to creep up, one draft beer, one chicken wing at a time.

I remember my first diet clearly. I wrote down my consumption each day, limited myself to 500 calories and became unbearable, obnoxious, but nonetheless thin. Oh, and those 500 calories usually included several cups of black tea which I counted at 35 calories a piece. Exaggeration couldn't hurt could it? It did. An unrealistic lifestyle and  the shock of being called "phat" while sporting a silver bikini led to regaining some of the weight. I was not yet ready to see myself as others saw me.

My next adventure was with a now defunct diet club. I don't remember much about it except that I ate a lot of cottage cheese on toast and created pancakes out of sliced and blenderized bread. Once again, my weight dropped. It was amazing. I didn't even have to cut my toenails, get a haircut or shave my legs to ensure a weekly loss. It was all so easy in my younger years.

Then I had children. One can only use them as an excuse for so long. I have surpassed the 20 year baby fat limit.

And so, over the years, I tried various diets. I never did anything drastic, expensive or fad-like. I avoided the urine injections and resisted the temptation to swallow a tapeworm. No preportioned dinners were delivered to my home and I did not consume small jars of baby food. I confess that I did try the cabbage soup diet and survived for about two days.

For awhile, I gave up dieting using the argument of balance in the universe as my defence. There's only so much fat in the world and every time one person takes it off, another puts it on. I was convinced I was sparing someone the terrible fate of weight gain through my own martyrdom. After sitting on the sofa, eating popcorn and watching a few episodes of "The Biggest Loser", I once again became realistic about how weight gain actually happens.

I've lost weight and I've gained it back. It's a vicious cycle. I dieted without concern for my health. Most of the time, I just wanted to look better...vanity. For some, that's a motivator. As I aged, it became less and less so.

Some of my best memories and most fun times were spent when a couple of my neighbours and I attended  a diet group together. We would encourage each other and go for walks in the evenings. It was relaxing, good for us and we had lots of laughs.

After moving away from my supportive neighbours, I went to a new meeting where I attempted to count points. I know this works successfully for many people. For me, it was not only costly but complex. Since I usually got up quite early in the mornings, I couldn't figure out how to get past noon without running out of points. One choice was to go to bed at 6 p.m. just to stay on track....not great for the social life.

So now, what am I to do? I have attended a non profit weight loss support group in my town for awhile. I lost some weight by monitoring my intake and exercising each day, changing my lifestyle, the only way. At least I was a healthy overweight person. Then I got ill and gained weight.

I suppose I am writing this out of my current state of fat frustration. My metabolism has never been great and now it's defunct, as is my motivation. My knees hurt and my breathing is suffering.

At my age it is necessary to reduce calories, eat thoughtfully and increase metabolism to maintain ultimate health. My "Bucket List" is too long to give up now.                                                      
                           

My Wii Mii (before)

So like the alcoholic who confesses in front of an audience of his/her peers...I need to say that "I am Hilde and my caloric intake is higher than what I burn off ." I am hereby making a public pledge to get back to controlling my portions, eating healthfully and exercising. This is no longer for the sake of vanity, but for the sake of my health. I shall begin today and "this will be the first day of a lifestyle change that will last for the rest of my life".                                     


My Wii Mii (after)...The upper arms seem doomed forever!






Don't Eat It If It Starts With "P"

Why is it that cookbooks and diet books are always on the best seller lists? Since 68% of the North American population is overweight this may be a rhetorical question. Nonetheless, I have noted over the years that fad diets of every sort and books about these diets have always been big sellers. Some diets come and go, and some just linger for the next generation to get excited over as if they've discovered something new. There are testimonials and interviews galore, doctors touting their validity and then poof...as quickly as they came, gone! My all time favourite was the cabbage soup diet. This diet contained plenty of nutrition and fibre and could theoretically have worked very well had I been able to gag down more than one day's worth of the soup.

I am hereby announcing the launch of my newly created diet. It's going to be called the "Don't Eat Anything That Starts With The Letter 'P' Diet". I feel much like any creator of a new diet, that I am highly qualified to write a book. Not only do I have a combined degree in Sociology and Psychology, innumerable post grad courses, and certification in fengshui, but I have many years of diet experience. Furthermore, I know that the human body contains 122 or is it 144 bones? We, have 32 or fewer teeth depending on where on the continent we live, and the skin is our largest organ. I have eaten frogs' legs and know that they don't actually taste anything like chicken, therefore I consider myself quite the food expert.

I am hoping that my idea will be published as soon as I figure out a way of turning the following information into an entire book. Lots of pictures might just do the trick. Perhaps I could list the items in alphabetical order, with comments about and photos of each morsel in its natural habitat. My newly created diet promises to transform your body in a matter of decades or you can give me your money back. It is not complicated. Simply, do not consume any of the following items: pancakes, pasta, pop, pizza, pate, pepperoni, pez candies, potatoes, pigtails, pirrhana, pig knuckles or pork hocks, perogies, pomegranates, porridge, possum, popcorn, potstickers, pub fare, puffed rice, pigeons or partridges in pear trees.

Watch for my follow up fashion book to be entitled "Don't Go Out In Public Wearing Anything Starting With the Letter 'P' ."