hippytowiki

The Bridal Path

I can blame it on Barbie.  Like all young girls in the 1960's, I had a Bridal Barbie.  She and Ken (in his dapper tux) often locked lips (or at least banged their plastic faces together).  Sometimes Barbie hung out with my brother's GI Joe.  It was complicated, as they say in Facebook. 

As I progressed into my teen years, I became something of a hippy and a "women's libber", and was more comfortable in ripped jeans and a tee shirt than a puffy dress. I think the only item of white clothing I owned was a tank top.  But suddenly, I found myself in Kleinfeld in 1982, with hundreds of other "brides-to-be," trying on over-priced, itchy dresses with faux pearls, lace, and bustles.  What was that all about?

As many recent chick-flicks depict, women of a certain age tend to go a bit insane when faced with the planning of nuptials.  I didn't really start out thinking that I was going to have an elaborate shindig, fingerless gloves, and a giant chocolate mousse cake, it just sort of turned out that way.  I did, however, walk myself down the aisle, as the thought of someone "giving me away" (even my beloved Dad) seemed odd.

If I were to get married today, I think it would be a simpler affair.  I'd forego some of the fluff and the fingerless gloves.  (In fact, I'd ditch the pointy shoes too.)  I would have the Internet to help me plan, saving hundreds of dollars on bridal magazines.  Kleinfeld moved to Manhattan from Brooklyn (probably because they were able to afford higher rents as a result of women like me).  But Bridal Barbie is timeless.  In fact, more than ten variations of her appear on the Barbie website.

Bizarre but true fact -- Japanese women can buy a life-size Barbie bridal gown.

The Knot: The ultimate wedding planning media company...wish I had it in 1983! 

How to make a Barbie bride cake

Hey neighbor!

I am moving my company's office to the Yonkers waterfront.  I think it's because I have some kind of strange desire to be in a "neighborhood."  It must stem from my childhood roots on 195th Street in Queens.  Everyone on my block (between Union Turnpike and 73rd Avenue) seemed to know who lived in every other house.  All the neighborhood kids played out on the street (regardless of age) in the summer.  We walked to school in clusters.

I attended and spoke at Yonkers Business Week a couple of weeks ago.  I've been doing business in that city for a while now, and even though Yonkers one of the four largest cities in New York State, so many business people know each other.  For better or worse, it has a small town feel.  The Mayor's office has even said that they would do a "ribbon cutting" for my new offices.  My neighbors in the new building are a combination of entrpreneurs and artists.  X20 is like my corner luncheonette.  I know my community bankers.  The railroad is right outside our window. 

The human need to "cluster" with other like-minded folk seems to be timeless.  Of course, I enjoy anonymity at times (and I don't like the gossip and petty bickering that tends to crop up in some neighborhoods), but the social vibe and collaboration far outweigh the negatives.

In some ways, Facebook has become my new neighborhood too.  I hang out with my "friends" at odd hours, have conversations, ask questions, and share humorous tidbits.  But there will never be an ice cream truck on the social media block.

Nothing can ever truly replace 195th Street.

My old neighborhood

My new "neighborhood" (at least for work)

My social media neighborhood

How to throw a block party

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

New Media Denial

Yes, change is happening at an absurdly rapid rate.  And I find that many of my Boomer colleagues and friends are suffering from Cenophobia.

I have always been an early adopter of new trends and technologies -- in fashion, life, and business --  experimenting with and learning about lots of them and then abandoning or ignoring those that didn't "feel" right (like leopard capri print leggings) or those that I could probably live eithout (like Tivo). 

Social media and mobile technology have had a profound impact on my generation.  Some of us are slowly but surely "figuring it out" and finding great uses for it in life and business.  Others fall into one of the  profiles listed below.

Ostrichizers:  People who bury their heads in the sand and hope it will all go away.  They may have graduated from a rotary phone to a cell phone and a VCR to a DVD player, but that's where it ended.  They continually mourn "the old days."  They are likely to still have Nehru jackets in their closets.

Poo-poo-ers:  They often say things like "This stuff is all stupid...it doesn't work...who would ever want that?"  (But they don't really know what "this stuff" is.)

Mr./Ms. Popularity:  Demonstrates his/her embracing of technology by making thousands of online friends, downloading apps constantly, and generally trying a little too hard to "fit in."

The Socially Awkward:  This is a variation of the above group.  They are fumbling around, making a noble effort to master the media.  But they can sometimes be overly-aggressive or over-eager and wind up "de-friended."

New technology is not the answer to every question.  But it has enabled me to grow my business, re-connect with long-lost relatives, and wish friends a happy birthday (because I can now keep track of when their birthdays are).  New media can actually humanize, rather than de-humanize us!  I rely on my Gen-Y and Echo-Boomer colleagues to keep me out of the last two categories, but I'm sure I sometimes let my social media "Mom Genes" show.

Let's face it. The realities are quite simple...technology will keep on moving...faster than ever.  We are no longer the only "Boomers."  There are now 80 million Echo-Boomers.  The Internet has surpassed print as a source of news.  And 200 million people are now on Facebook (and 30 percent of the new users are older than 35). 

Yeah, I miss the pink Princess phone and my 45s as much as the next Boomer.  But I think I have learned to love my Blackberry and iPod almost as much...and can only imagine what's coming next!  But you can be sure it will be smaller and seemingly more useless than what came before -- until we can figure out what to do with it!

David Bowie singing Changes (no record player required)

Social media in plain English

The Speed of Change

 

Fab Fearless 40s

HippytoWiki fan alert!  This will be the last installment of Decade-dense for the time being.  I've simply run out of decades.  I hope you enjoyed it.  My next post will be something slightly self-indulgent, but definitely fun and thought-provoking. 

OK...so getting older has its downside...the weird neck flesh (requiring a larger collection of turtlenecks), the crows feet and smile lines, and the inability to drop 5 pound in 48 hours by subsisting on Tab and Kashi.  But with four decades of life also comes tremendous wisdom, pespective, and self-confidence.

I started that decade as an over-worked, unhappy, unhealthy corporate suit and ended it as a re-energized (albeit poorer) entrepreneur.  Along with my big-brand baggage, I shed about 20 pounds and gained muscle mass (which I've been told is a good thing).  My kids got older and I got my own life back.  Whoever says that working mothers can "have it all" has never been a working mother.  At any one time, you'll be doing something badly.  It's just a fact.

We all survived the Y2K frenzy (when our computers, phones, and banks were all supposed to crash).  Lots of media hype but no crisis.  The bank crash did actually happen, but it was unrelated to a date on a calendar.

I organized a 30-year high school reunion, which was fun -- but have no overwhelming desire to do it again for at least another 30 years.  Now that we have Facebook, the live reunion thing is not an imperative.  (Plus, Facebook can easily hide the signs of aging and lunacy.)

I lived fairly calmly through my daughters' teen years and one round of the college application process.  It was very different from my own high school years.  Although I am hardly a helicopter parent, I did spend an entire weekend with my older daughter, helping her with college forms.  (I have no recollection of anyone doing that with me...kids of my era were totally on their own...I even schlepped my own trunk and bags to Michigan and set-up my room without a group trek to buy bedding and toiletries, which is now a mandatory parental responsibility). 

Starting my own business at the age of 48 was either incredibly daring or incredibly masochistic (or some of both).    It's like learning to walk all over again.  I made lots of mistakes and fell on my face often.  I learned from most of them.  And I still totally love going to work every day.  I could never say that about my time on "the dark side."  When I left corporate America, it was at the highest level I wanted to achieve.  I had the big office, the big staff, the big expense account.  But I also had the endless meetings, the endless politics, and the endless risk-aversion.  When I walked out, I was truly done.  No regrets.  (I do, however, occasionally miss the concept of a fully-paid business trip to the French countryside for a global marketing meeting...sigh!)

Turning 50, albeit a bit traumatic,was viewed (or rationalized) as the beginning of the second half of my life.  Nana Molly and Grandpa Marty lived to almost 100 and I'm planning on doing the same.  And perhaps I'll still be blogging (and you'll still be reading) about what I learned during the next 50 years.

And I sure hope there's another Worlds Fair at some point.  I never got a cool personalized embroidered hat!  That's one thing I regret in my life!

Trends of the 1990s 

The first book I read when I started my business

How to live to be 100 (and not regret it)

The Lost Decade

"Greed is Good!" proclaimed Gordon Gekko in Wall Street (the movie). The year was 1987 and I was still lovin' yuppiedom.  A new condo in Hoboken...summers in the Hamptons...a much-coveted VP title.  But then I started growing up and realizing what was really important.

All of a sudden, life took all kinds of adult turns.   My first daughter was born (which was both awesome and terrifying -- was I really competent to be a parent??!!).  I lost most of my right lung (to a benign tumor) and spent several days in the ICU.  The whole experience was quite humbling...I guess there is such a thing as mortality!  My father died suddenly (Ditto).  And then I had another baby.  Talk about growing up fast. 

I worked hard. I got promotions.  We moved to the suburbs.  We bought real furniture.  I drove to Gymboree.  I drove myself -- and my staff -- crazy.  I looked and felt like hell most of the time.  But my daughters sure were adorable!

Lessons learned in my 30s:

• Life is short.  Enjoy it.
• If you have a chronic cough, go to a doctor.
• Commuting to Chicago every week is not really fun after the second week.  (When my job moved, I flew back and forth...great for AA miles, but that's about it.)
• When you're a parent, nothing ever really grosses you out.
• Greed WAS good.  Health and family are better.

Electric '80s...Roaring '20s

As the 1970s flowed into the 1980s, polyester and disco replaced denim and steel guitars.  ("Hotel California" won the Grammy the year I moved back to NY and "Mr. Roboto" was a hit the year I got married.)  Wall Street was cool...street people were not.  I was hurled from the safe womb of college life to the go-go-go rush of first jobs, singles bars, living in squalor in a walk-up apartment (with my cockroach pets, occasional mice, and my pet cat Lola -- named after the Kinks song), and dreaming of a doorman building, big desk, big paycheck and Mr. Big.

I started out in a semi-bohemian publishing career and soon "sold out" to a job in banking.  I cut my hair and permed it (as evidenced by the photo).  I wore floppy ties and shoulder pads.  My power suits led to power jobs, and I accumulated "yuppie stuff" with my newly-earned cash.  I got married at the Pierre Hotel and honeymooned in the Virgin Islands, drank mimosas with friends at brunch (and, although I never had a doorman, I got to move into a home without bugs and rodents). 

I remember the day a computer was wheeled on a cart into my office.  I think it was only good for typing documents, making spreadsheets and talking to other people in my company.  But it was oh-so-exciting (although there's nothing quite like that formidable IBM Selectric, and I have my best literary thoughts when I'm using a notebook and black felt tip pen.  I also still know how to add without a calculator!).

Speaking of technology, one of my favorite after-work de-stressers was an intense game of Q*bert at the local arcade.   Then, as technology became more sophisticated, game developers decided that stealing cars, shooting enemies, and building your own society was more entertaining than propelling a weird creature up and down a geometric hill.  I'm not sure I agree.

Fads of the 1980s

Everything you ever want to know about cockroaches

Kleinfeld Bridal (It was -- and still is -- a bridal institution.  My friend Sue and I were almost kicked of the store for bad behavior.  The retailer has since moved from Brooklyn to NY, but I hear they are still talking about "the incident")

From Union Turnpike to Pennsylvania Avenue

Whiskey sours were replaced by Boone's Farm Apple Wine, we discovered Bruce Springsteen, and the partying evolved from dancing the frug and spinnning the bottle to slothfully sprawling in someone's living room when parents were away.  And, as much as my generation was reveling in sex, drugs, and rock and roll, we were torn between the desire to start a revolution and the compulsion to get into the college of our choice.  (That doesn't seem to have changed much over the decades.)  My older brother grew a beard and long hair and we protested the War in Vietnam by staying out of school one day.  (Hmmm...don't quite see how that was effective.)

High school was filled with high drama.  We spent a lot of time alternately being depressed about bad boyfriends, anxious about our futures, and industriously making plans about which concerts we were going to see, which albums we were going to buy, and which colleges we were going to apply to. 

"Fleeing" was a big theme back then.  We had just missed the era of trekking up to Woodstock or venturing out to Haight Ashbury.  But we knew there was a wide world beyond Union Turnpike in Queens. I realized by my senior year that my classroom work was probably irrelevant to my future ability to earn a living, so I took advantage of a "real world" program and worked for credit my senior year and spent many of my college credits on "life experience" programs.  (I interned for a Congressman -- before Monica Lewinsky tainted the meaning of that job title.)  I can't exactly say that I entered the "real world," but I did feel more important and productive.  I got to meet Ed Koch and Gerald Ford and Walter Mondale and Jacob Javits (the Senator, not the building).  I even rode in the little train between the Rayburn Building in D.C. and the Capitol, and advised "my Congressman" how to vote on local issues.  (Or, at least he humored me by pretending to listen to me.).  I saw how politics worked from the inside (which is why I ultimately opted for a career in the public sector).

In addition to my stint in Washington, D.C. my late teen years were odd ones.  It was my first major excursion off the East coast (and I discovered that in the Midwest people say "pop" rather than "soda" and they wait "in line" rather than "on line" and "sleep in" rather than "sleep late.")  Ann Arbor was in a state of confusion, as tie-dye was being replaced by suits and ties.  I started college in tattered jeans and ended it in cardigans.  The animal house co-op I lived in (Xanadu) has since been converted back into a sorority house. 

What did I learn between the ages of 16 and 20?

• If you did your school work well and on time and treated teachers with respect, you could get away with a lot.  (I was always the "good girl," and therefore could get away easily with bad behavior.)
• Our parents were totally oblivious to how we spent our time outside of school.  Was it denial?  Or just a huge generation gap?  Today's parents are just so much more connected to what their kids are up to -- perhaps because we were such wild children ourselves.
• The whole college application process is as demoralizing, stressful, and ridiculous today as it was back then.  (But we didn't have tutors, college advisors, and obsessive parental involvement.)
• Great music lives on for many decades.
• Elected officials really can make a difference...it just takes a lot of time and belief.
• Working in a State mental hospital (an all male outpatient ward outside Detroit is great preparation for dealing with lots of other things in life and work.  (Nothing scares me much now.)
• If you pick the right high school and college friends, they can be friends for life.  We now sprawl and chat on Facebook, rather than a couch.
• There is no such thing as the "real world."  It's what you make of it.
• Fleeing, on occasion, is still really important.

The Culture of the Times

What We Wore

What We Watched

What Was Invented (Pong and Post-it Notes)

11 to 15: The Wonder Years...Bras, Boys, and Booze

The next decade was such a varied and significant one that I am breaking it into two eras. 

I'm sure the sordid post title was a real attention-grabber, but the era was quite mild compared to the antics in recent films like Thirteen.  There was no body piercing or "hooking up" during my frisky '60s.  Girls started to "develop" and were fitted with Teenform training bras with names like Bra-O-Mine.  (Believe it or not, there was no Victoria's Secret...my friends and I had to shop with our mothers in weird little boutiques called "foundation shops.") 

Having built our foundations, we then set out to charm the boys.  We had our first co-ed parties at 12, and the girls (aggressive little vixens that we were) served as amateur DJs (selecting the vinyl records for the evening) and orchestrators of Spin-the-Bottle games.  They were generally disappointing, unless one landed one of  the two "popular boys."  One of these boys is still a friend -- in Facebook and real life.  I'm sure he'd be flattered to know his lips were coveted by 10 sixth graders at one point.

The parties became more elaborate as we entered the "Bar/Bat Mitzvah stage."  The most elaborate hoo-hahs and horahs took place at Leonards of Great Neck-- which is, I was shocked to discover, still in existence.  Their website is as over-the-top and tasteless as the catering hall was back then.  We were the original "Bar Mitzvah Crashers," wandering into other people's affairs and swiping whiskey sours from oblivious cocktail waiters.  (Back then, teen drinking was generally controlled.  Who could possibly consume more than one whiskey sour without going into sugar shock?)  I smoked my first cigarette on the sidewalk outside Seth Nagel's bar mitzvah.  (We all had to be evacuated because his grandmother accidentally set fire to the tablecloth during the candle lighting ceremony.)  It was all very exciting, but fairly tame.

The wild years were just beginning, however.  David Bowie and Bob Marley came out with their debut albums (a far cry from the Hokey Pokey and Hava Nagila.)  I got scary-skinny and wore hot pants and go-go boots.  The "mod" era evolved into the tie-dye years.  By the end of this "half decade" I had a boyfriend who sported a ponytail and adored Frank Zappa.  Bras were being burned, not coveted.  The revolution had begun... 

To get in the mood:

Greatest songs of the 1960s

...and still more songs

1960s teen fashion

How to make a whiskey sour

Decade-dense: The First Installment

From Zero to Ten...in '60s fashion

The "Just a Chubby Girl in Knee Socks" Years  (1956-1966)

My birthday is in five weeks, and I'm going to celebrate, in part, by writing a brief review of the past five (and then some) decades of my life thus far.  Self-serving, yes.  But hopefully entertaining.  It will give you insights into times gone by and prompt us all to realize just how much has changed in a relatively brief period. 

I was named after Nancy Drew and Nancy Sinatra (of "These Boots are Made for Walking" fame).  Nancy was considered a cool name back then.  (There were four of us in my grade school class.)  It's all but obsolete now, according to this graph. 

I walked to school every day starting at age seven (without fear of going missing), and my family ate lots of red meat and sugary cereals (without fear of clogged arteries and rotten teeth).  I had a pen pal named Ann Owens who lived in Nebraska, which was so exotic.  (Ann:  If you're on Facebook, friend me!)  We wrote letters with pencils and paper and mailed them to each other every couple of weeks. 

I made potholders on a loom and sold them door-to-door to moms who wore aprons.  My brothers and I also sold our comic books after we finished reading them.  I was the entrepreneurial star of 195th Street and Union Turnpike. 

Girls wore skirts back then (like on Mad Men), and pantyhose hadn't yet been invented, so it was a totally lame fashion era.  I owned lots of knee socks and dresses with matching hats.  Not only did little girls look ridiculous, we froze our asses off in winter.

We had a black-and-white TV (just one) and only got a few channels.  We watched Ed Sullivan on Sunday nights and seeing the Beatles for the first time was definitely better than watching "American Idol."  The first kid in the neighborhood who had a color TV died of leukemia and my mother freaked out and said it was caused by new technology. 

The highlight of that decade was, by far, the World's Fair.  I still get weepy when I drive by the Unisphere.  We all believed we would ride around on monorails in "the future." 

I said I wanted to be a teacher or an actress or a nurse (the recommended professions) when I grew up, although I dressed as a spy (Honey West) on Halloween.  And I really looked forward to those teen years, when I could wear go-go boots like my namesake. (Betcha can't wait to read about that decade!)

To be continued...

Guy, Dick, and Anderson

From party hats and cheap champagne to...

This year, Sean Combs offered up $1 million to charity for the Ciroc branding rights to the Times Square ball.  It didn't happen, but he's sending drunken New Yorkers home in cabs instead.  And Sprint is getting ready for a New Years Eve texting frenzy.  (Did you know that text message volume goes up about 200% on the holiday?)

New Years Eve has become big business.  Long gone are the days of gathering in a friend's living room to watch "New Years Rockin' Eve" (which launched in 1972).  Even if you're home tonight, watching TV, you have your choice of televised festivities (not to mention a wide array of year-in-review recaps).

Is  Guy Lombardo rolling over in his grave or would he be delighted that New Years celebrations are alive and well, even in these trying times?  (And here's the real question -- do you think he would text Anderson or post on AC360?)

So, whatever you're watching, texting, drinking, or doing at midnight tonight, I hope it's memorable!  And Days of Auld Lang Syne don't ever go out of style.

Don't forget that timeless kissing tradition -- always one of my personal faves -- and one that social media can never replace!