Gran Goggles: What to say to a hairdresser

Lately I've become obsessed with looking at the hair of women 50+. In my large city, so many have monotonous haircuts.

Some look dated. The cut at far left has a lot of detail but it's not very touchable or modern.

The cut at near left is kludgy, boxy and too short for the "edgy asymmetry" (stylist's words) to work (note the Mamie Eisenhower bangs)– and worst of all, it was on me. Aaargh, took six months to grow out.

I suspect we were both cut by stylists wearing Gran Goggles.

The stylist sees his gran's face superimposed on the 50+ client's. You get a safe, outdated cut that is not adapted to your face, body or style. Either it's a short, generic wash n' wear job since older equals "not interested in any styling" or a bizarre attempt at recovering our youth for us by channeling the '80s.

Hairdressers need our firm guidance to remove their Gran Goggles.

We have to get them to view us differently, so we get a style that makes us look current and fabulous.

What to say to the stylist

1. "I want to work with my hair's texture."

Shown, fashion icon Yasmin Sewell in her trademark asymmetrical wavy bob. She's working her natural wave and curl. No blowout, no highlights, no thinning shears– just healthy, well-cut hair. (Yes, I know she is well under 50, but want to illustrate an attitude.)


The 'done' hair like minkie lady's reads as stiff and passé.
(Photo from Advanced Style.)





Here's Helen Mirren in two styles. The soft, elegant sidesweep, far left, is one any decent stylist can muster. I like the cut at the near left even more; the tousled bangs and layers are the work of a stylist with a fresher eye.


2. (If short): "Give me details!"

If you sit in a stylist's chair engrossed in the latest Vogue, not on the alert for the Gran Goggles, you are a sitting duck for a by-the-numbers short cut. Get the cut with something going on. Let's look at two very good cuts.

The pixie, worn at far left by Dame Judi Dench, is beloved for its care-free ease; it too can be cut by any stylist, but needs careful attention and customizing to each head.

The pixie that's too short at the back or over the ears looks harsh. Note the softness at her nape and the slightly thick sideburns. She's also wearing beautifully applied eye makeup.

Annette Bening's pixie is longer, with sideswept wispy bangs and texture that softens and lightens the crop. It's insouciant, not hard.


Supershort buzz: If necessary as a result of health issues, that's one thing, but this is too severe for most women– unless Gertrude Stein is really the look you want. (Photo from Advanced Style.)



Detail can be created by colour, too. You could play with innovative effects, like this client of Lisbon hair salon Hairport in her natural grey with auburn tips on a textured, artful short cap cut.


3. "Give me movement."

Chin length is the point where movement and shine are obvious and essential. Ask for the 'little bit undone' look.

The artistry is in the excellent cut, not the styling, and shows off her stunning white.
(Photo from Advanced Style.)


4. "Give me simplicity, beautifully executed."

Vanessa Redgrave: shining, well-tended natural grey in a simple bob. Redgrave's hair is not thick, so one length, impeccably trimmed, suits her.

Diane Sawyer in soft, minimal layering that you want to touch, and the best blonding money can buy.


5. (If long): "Style me with a fresh look that I can replicate at home."

You don't want your long hair to look like you haven't re-thought layering since the '70s.

Soft waves will require time with a curved brush or a few rollers, but a loosely-waved style is more soignée than a careless ponytail or stuck-behind-the-ears lank length.

If you want to wear your hair up, ask your hairstylist to show you how to make a chignon that looks not-too-perfect.

Those of us who remember the introduction of mousse can get terribly tidy, and that's not as chic as leaving a few ends out.


Undoing a Gran Goggle style

Posting on a site called Make or Break Moments, Deborah Chaddock Brown told of her visit to a new salon where she asked for "short, easy to care for, something different".

This is what she got, and she hated it. You can see why: a fusty, incoherent style that pulls her face down. I find her expression so touching, trying to put a brave face on a bad 'do.

Though she didn't complain, the owner could see Ms Brown wasn't happy with the stylist's job and called to ask her back for a complimentary re-style.

Ms Brown was a brave woman to walk back in there, but, impressed by their request to make it right, gave them another chance. The owner did the second cut.

Way better, don't you think? Stylist #1 had scissors, but also Gran Goggles. The owner had the eye to know that a softer, simpler yet sophisticated style with broken-up bangs would make Ms B's eyes look huge, and flatter her cheekbones.

And this is the same salon.

Turkey: Kramer, kith and kin

The New Yorker's Nov. 23 issue is all about food, and I especially enjoyed Jane Kramer's article, "Pilgrim's Progress", which describes forty years of her strategy for making friends in foreign lands by cooking Thanksgiving dinner (at various times of the year) for guests like Sufi musicians in Morocco, Serbians, Ugandans, and– toughest crowd of all– the French. (Article not available online except by digital subscription.)

She assigns their difficulty with turkey-and-trimmings to their "finicky palates" and sees that sitting down to a groaning board of dishes that we eat gleefully "smushed together into one glorious taste" on a plate swimming in gravy is abhorrent to them. The French guests pick at her food, which they carefully segment so as not to touch other dishes on the plate. One of her friends, a French woman married to an American, describes a similar dinner at which Parisian diners picked at tiny portions of the food, but inhaled her truffle, chestnut and fois gras-studded dressing.

"They know what the good parts are", Le Duc said darkly.

Kramer's difficult guest endures, right under my roof. Le Duc, a French Canadian, has asserted for a quarter-century that people of French heritage do not 'do' Thanksgiving dinners. He is unmoved by turkey and thinks that two or three side dishes should be enough to accompany any main course. And salad is not served with the turkey, and marshmallows belong at a campfire.

As a newlywed, I saw that the memories of my American Thanksgiving dinners were going to remain just that, because despite Kramer's insistence, you can lead people to a turkey dinner but you can't make them like it. My sons reached adolescence before they witnessed a US-style Thanksgiving dinner table. They said that it looked just like a buffet.

For several Thanksgivings in the last decade, we were visited by The Siren, an American girlfriend who lived for a time in Chicago. We created full-on turkstravaganzas. He ate with appetite, but when she moved back to California, there was no wistful recollection, no longing for the pearl onions with apples or the trio of squash, fennel and parsnip pureés.

For the last dozen Thanksgivings (which in Canada happen six weeks earlier than in the US, and sensibly on the Monday, while Americans are celebrating Columbus Day), the family visits a cheerful, bustling restaurant that serves turkey dinner with enough familiar sides that you would look at the plate and say, " Oh, it's Thanksgiving".

But the joint doesn't serve squash, apple cider sweet potatoes, the pearl onions, or anything but the most pedestrian mash and veg. Buoyed by Kramer's account of the lavish, warm Thanksgiving dinner served to friends in Spoleto last July, I am determined to take back Thanksgiving and reassert my homeland's tradition.

First, I have to regain my feast-fixin' mojo.

Mark Bittman has developed a minimalist Thanksgiving menu, a good starting point (and stopping point for some). I'm thinking I'll surprise some friends in early spring, taking a page from Kramer's book. I'll add a few of my own favourites, including the tomato pudding and maybe leek gratin for Le Duc.

To those celebrating today, Happy Thanksgiving! I'll catch up with you in April!


Tomato Pudding
(A signature dish of the old Dilworth Hotel, Boyne City Michigan)

1 (10 oz.) can tomato puree (or you can make your own puree with fresh tomatoes)
3/4 c. boiling water
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
4 slices bread, white, diced
1/2 c. melted butter
Add sugar, water and salt to tomato puree. Boil 5 minutes. Place bread squares in buttered casserole dish and pour melted butter over them. Add hot tomato mixture and place cover on casserole. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

Wild Horses couldn't drag me to hear Susan Boyle sing this

Susan Boyle will perform here tomorrow evening. The program will include Wild Horses, the much-covered Rolling Stones classic written by Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, but first released by Gram Parsons in 1970, when he was with The Flying Burrito Brothers. And now apparently a hit for Boyle.

I was gobsmacked a la Simon Cowell when I heard her sing it:





Susan Boyle mishandles this song grievously, leaching the desperation and longing from one of the all-time great country/rock hurtin' songs and displaying the artistic sensibility of a salami by using a cheesy, The Homecoming-style piano arrangement. The product: an easy listening dirge that rates voice, ten, soul, zero.

Her fans apparently adore the version: "Oooh, never liked the song before now."

Parsons said he inspired the song (he and Richards were close friends and partners in crime); other contenders include Anita Pallenberg, Marianne Faithfull and Richards and Pallenberg's son Marlon. The "graceless lady" in the song suggests Parson's mother, Avis, an heiress to the Snively orange-grove fortune who died of alcoholism.

Parsons got a demo tape from the Stones and convinced them to let him release it first on Burrito Deluxe, one year before before the Stones included it on Sticky Fingers. Having already recorded soulful ballads like Do Right Woman and Dark End of the Street, Parsons knew a Burrito-flavoured hit when he heard it.

Here's Gram singing Wild Horses on the audio track of a photo-montage tribute. It shows his famous white Nudie suit emblazoned with flaming cross, naked women on the lapels, marijuana leaves and pills.

His tenor occasionally wobbles, but no matter; the song is infused with broke-down longing deepened by Sneaky Pete Kleinow's keening steel guitar.




Susan Boyle is alive and twinkly; Gram, as a result of reckless rock star living, not. Not to advocate bad behaviour on Parson's seismic scale, but Susan needs a few unhinged roadhouse nights of her own before she can go (as Jagger said of himself) "very inside this piece emotionally".

She has to reach down to the place where, as one critic said about Loretta Lynn, "she puts a tear in every note".

Keef and Mick are still rockin'. You might think "Well, written by two Brits, why shouldn't a Scottish lass sing it?" The Spoof.com has published its satire here.

The faux and the fine at $500 and way less

I'm looking for a faux or real fab necklace on a $500 budget.

Why $500? Because I saw this "Heirloom octagonal locket", $495 at J. Crew and thought I could do way better that this little overpriced 10k trinket.

I will wear costume, but generally look for vintage, because current costume disappointing, with a few exceptions.

In vintage, several costume pieces stood out.

1950s Hattie Carnegie Tassel "Gold" Necklace

Add '50s flirt to a jacket or cashmere sweater with this gold mesh necklace intricately embellished with two turquoise and ruby tassels and one medallion. 16" long. 3 1/2" long tassel ends. Price, $200; from Ellen Wood Scarborough, on the 1stdibs site.

Large Key Pendant Necklace, 1960s
Art stone encrusted large key pendant necklace in silvertone. 24" long. Key is 4 1/2" long. Way more original that a Tiffany key pendant, and the price is $150; also from Ellen Wood Scarborough.


The real deal

When I begin to shop faux, I so often end up with a pleasing 'real' piece.

Chrysoprase Filigree Necklace, ca. 1940 An Art Deco dream. Silver chain necklace with black beads interspersed throughout. The center has a large pendent in silver filigree work and bars of black glass and chrysoprase. 17" long, pendent is 1 1/2".

Circa 1940. $550 from Carole Tanenbaum Vintage Jewelry. Fifty bucks over my budget but glamourous and special; worth the splurge.

Necklace of rectangular copper links embellished with orange and yellow enamel work, circa 1950.

Links are joined by copper findings. Size is 20” long, 1” wide. From Carol Tanenbaum.

Just a tad over again at $550, but what a piece: enough drama for a jacket but hip enough for a black tee with jeans.

For a casual yet striking necklace, I'd choose a big, well-designed Mexican piece like these '40s sterling and amethyst beads, about 16 7/8" long. Beads range from 5/16" to 5/8" in width. The necklace is strung on a fine silver chain. Price, $375 from Deja Voodoo. (Pseu, I am not making this up!)

Or two lavish strands of Victorian Whidby jet, beautifully-cut beads for $350, also from Deja Voodoo. The strands are 16" and 18 1/2 inches, and the beads are good-sized, the smallest is 13/16" and the largest, just under 1/2".

A superb and versatile Modernist piece: Jane Widberg mid-century sterling and carnelian necklace composed of an pendant (which could be worn on a longer chain) and neck-ring, $495 from Auerbach and Maffia.

You can even get a diamond-set locket on this budget. If I were craving a locket, I'd choose a ca. 1900 14k rose gold piece from Ruby Lane seller Eve Dove Gems.

It has a 10-point diamond set on one side and a lovely monogram on the other, and still contains the Gay Nineties photo of a couple inside. Price, $295.

Plan B: Fake it when the lights are low

Quality, schmality. Sometimes you have a better use for your 500 clams and want a vibrant new accessory for a party or two. There's a time for fake and fab, usually late at night under a restaurant chandelier.

Something hip for a night out: this Aldo fuschia Dark necklace delivers colour, pearls, and dripping Bollywood tiers, all for $25.

Navy is a nearly impossible colour to find in jewelry, so I was captivated by this navy Rhinestone Bib Necklace, the kind of accessory that revives a dress or top you're used to. $59 from Art Effect, and also available in black.

Catherine Stein 30" multicolored bead baubles strung on ribbon look very good indeed for $35. From Lord and Taylor.

RJ Graziano is another costume-jewelry designer who creates outstanding lower-priced pieces. This smoky gray resin and chain necklace piece is as bold and well-balanced as pieces at quadruple the price. Also available in clear resin, but get the moody, richer-looking grey. $75 from Bloomingdale's and also sold on HSN.

Sex, intimacy and aging: Elders' advice

Last summer I was privileged to sit in a circle of elderly woman as they discussed sex and aging.

They ranged from early 70s to 80. Each enjoyed good to excellent health, and most were married (some to second husbands). One woman was gay. One woman had been widowed in her 40s, and was now in a new, tentative relationship.

Their advice was, "Pay attention to your love life". The majority were with partners who had health issues that made intimacy sporadic, limited or not possible. I was struck by the tenderness with which they reminisced, recalling passion and its physical and emotional gifts.

Rather like those of us in our 50s and 60s who wished we'd worn our bikini more often, they wished they'd taken more time to enjoy the pleasure and bonding of lovemaking before aging diminished desire or ability.

I asked one of the eldest if she and her husband at least cuddled. "My husband is an all-or-nothing kind of guy", she said ruefully.

I appreciated their reminder that one's intimate life is vulnerable to the challenges of aging. Like the decline of physical ability, I couldn't quite imagine losing what I had taken for granted.

"I'm glad we had those wonderful nights when the children were asleep and we would dance and dance and finally dance to the bedroom", one of the oldest said to me, "because the memory of it keeps me close to him now."

Festive in flats: What would Carla choose?

The party season approaches. I have but one pair of heels. They are wintry, but will I wear them? My heart says yes, and my feet say, "But Carla doesn't."

Huffington Post ran a piece on Carla Bruni-Sarkozy's love of flats, along with a slide show, here, which shows how she wears flat shoes and boots for even dressy functions. During a visit to England in March, 2008, photos show Dior ensembles of increasing formality, always with flats.

She is thought to have adopted them to prevent towering over her bijoux husband.

Look, his heels are higher than hers. According to various reports, Sarko is 5' 5" or 5' 6", Carla is 5' 9' or perhaps 5' 11". That's quite a gap to close, if it matters.

I'm 5' 10", and back in the day dated a few Sarko-sized guys. They either liked the attention the effect drew or agonized about it. Ray, who ended up marrying my friend Dacia, swore he was 5' 7", but was really at least an inch shorter. He was so dismayed about the platforms I wore to a party that he turned up for the next date in a gorilla suit.

Regardless of their reasons, ever more women are flashing flats with dressier outfits. But many flats look a bit sad and settled-for with party clothes. (Carla's consistently in Dior shoes.)

The bad news is that flats with fizz are costly, hard to find, or both. The good news is that they don't date as quickly as heels.

Flats that stay up late

Prada Skimmer with Rings, $550 from Neiman Marcus. I love the lines; this is a grown-up flat.

Juicy Couture Ravi Studded Ballerinas, $195, also from Neiman Marcus.

Small enough to fold in your bag when wearing winter boots to travel, with studs for attitude.

The Cole Haan Nike Air Addison Ballerinas have that divine Nike Air cushion-support, detail and texture via patent and matte leathers, and the slightest wedge to save your feet from looking like flippers. $158, from Neiman's again (also available from Zappos in chocolate). Too sporty for Carla's ballgowns, but a great looking shoe.

Mugnai's "Kaitlin" in aubergine is smart, refined and has similar air-cushioning. $425 (Canadian dollars) from Ron White. (International shipping.)

Marni's pink jacquard tweed lurex ballerinas are an intelligent alternative to the brand's vertiginous heels at the same lofty price point, $510 from Marni.

Accessoire Diffusion is one of my favourite French shoemakers; the US stores are in Vegas and NYC. Carla and I could wear our sapphire patent "Gounod" ballerinas with everything from le smoking to jeans. €220. Visit the site just to enjoy the stellar collection.


Anthropologie's "Sort of Saddle" shoes, in glittery brown fabric and patent, would add wit to a silk shirt and pants, for only $128. Anthropologies' web site has many appealing flats; problem is that the standouts sell out.

Finally, an unexpected colour kicks a flat into sharp. These Italian leather ballerinas from Sundance come in purple, red, navy, mustard, a tart apple green, and brown. $128 from Sundance; international shipping.

With flats like these, I'll probably not venture into those heels more than a time or two. And you?

Allure at 50+: A hard shop

I recently replied to graying pixie, in a recent post about hair: "Even if women don't want to look overtly sexy, most of them want to look like they might be in the game."

This was the attitude with which I went shopping last weekend.

I sought a dressy top for the round of holiday parties. The usual retailers offered missy camis way too junior for me or dowdy beaded sweaters. The few things I liked in luxury shops were stratospherically pricey or not made in my size.

On the verge of resignation, I stopped by a neighbourhood boutique that carries clothes by Montreal designer Veronique Miljkovitch.

I found my deliverance, the "Amber", a sensuous draped jersey tunic shown here in grey; mine is a glowing sapphire. With jersey palazzo pants, earrings and cocktail ring, it's ready for a party– but with jeans and boots, it will read casually cool. Le Duc's gift, lucky me!

I also loved this silk and stretch cotton "Scarlett" top, shown on the web site.

Veronique's pieces are fresh, sensuous, and discreetly but definitively sexy. And her Large is a 14, not an 8-with-no-bust.

Clothes like this are rare as a blue rose.

This is what the big-brand designers and retailers don't get: women 50+ want to look like we still have (or would consider having) a good time that involves our bodies. Think of Catherine Deneuve– we want to be womanly rather than matronly. (I do know one woman who is not interested, and deliberately dresses to telegraph that choice, in overalls.)

If I make it to eighty and beyond, and if blessed with the acuity of my mother and aunt, I will still desire clothes that offer allure. I'm grateful I found something for this season, but why is it so almighty hard?