Why Holly Golightly Was Not Meant To Get Old

I have a birthday coming up we’re not celebrating.

When I think there was a time I looked forward to my special day, it seems comical.  As a kid, birthdays were treated like national holidays making you wonder why banks and schools weren’t closed.  My mother, despite her shortcomings, relished her offspring’s date of arrival because as she put it, “I did all the work…all you did was show up.”

I always had visions of sliding off a ramp, like luggage at the airport.  There she is, the one next to the gray American Tourister.  Grab her.

I’ve lived by the seat of my pants my whole life.  When I was younger, it seemed okay to not worry about where your next meal was coming from.  As a cutesy model making rounds, I could always pop into a good hotel at cocktail hour and for dinner, feast on their hot hor’derves.  They actually encouraged it, liking young ladies sprinkled along the bar like hungry cubs.

But there’s nothing cute about a girl in her 6th decade sniffing out the cheese sticks.

My work has all but dried up making me shake my head in total wonder.  I look in the mirror and yes, see lines and circles, but overall, if you take me in as a whole, I still look pretty good, and that’s not vanity.  I’m my own product so I see I’ve held up pretty well.  Okay, if you squint.

Put me in a little dress and a pair of pumps, and watch me strut and swagger.  Okay, so I might be sore the next day, but that’s what heating pads and Bengay is for.

I’m told, this is why I should have been married, to have someone to pay for things in my later years.  I shudder when I hear this, knowing too many couples who hate each other after marrying for security rather than love.

I guess being a romantic has cost me.  I’ve been lucky enough to be in love more than once, but as we know, even the best champagne, once it’s uncorked, will ultimately lose it’s fizz.

In my case, I had one man die, another leave, a married fellow I never should have known, and another who went back to his wife because he wasn’t letting go of his hard-earned house and patio furniture.

I never think in terms of property.  The man who died, at 32, taught me, life is too short to live it for your two-car garage and country club membership.

So, I guess the only thing left to do is live one day at a time, doing the best I can with what I do have.

It sounds trite perhaps, but it’s all I have to offer, at least for today.   


About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Connecticut, Faith, Fashion, Gratitude, humanity, humor, Love, money, Women and men and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

27 Responses to Why Holly Golightly Was Not Meant To Get Old

  1. Rubenstein, Hal says:

    Very sweet life lessons !



  2. Living one day at a time sounds good to me. I find it hard to do. Good luck!

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s a wonderful way to be though I’ll admit, quite often difficult. I’m often consumed with worry about the future so if I can remember to rein myself in and stay where my feet are, it helps tremendously. Thanks, as always.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Getting married for security is like having kids to take care of you in your old age. It rarely works. We have to figure it out for ourselves. You have done very well so far. Haven’t seen you in a Depends ad yet.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I continue to say you are a beautiful woman and I would consider it an honor to escort you to a nice dinner. Whatever happens, Happy Birthday!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. micklively says:

    Six decades doesn’t change the things that matter. You’re still a talented writer, with great heart. I don’t see that changing any time soon. I will be celebrating your birthday.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I wonder if you can identify with this. When I was younger, I’d get compliments along the line of ” You look really good.” Now, at a couple weeks shy of 67, I hear, “You look really good, for your age.” It doesn’t quite have the same ring. I can’t pinpoint exactly when the appendage ‘for your age’ made its appearance.
    And you did right by not marrying for security. So sad, desperate, and pathetic a move. Better to be your own woman with moments of loneliness. Being married to the wrong guy doesn’t ensure you’re never lonely.
    I think you’re doing just fine … for your age, ha ha!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I get that…for your age remark, and that instead of pretty, I’m now apparently handsome. I feel as if I should don a tux with Brillcream in my hair. Humor, we’re so lucky to have it there Ms Skinny…best antidote for getting older.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Unless you’re cheese or wine age doesn’t matter. I try to convince myself of this with every glimpse in the mirror. As if that’s not enough I have kids who love to remind me of my prehistoric date of birth. I think I’m going to celebrate your birthday by eating a cupcake without giving a single fuck about calories. Bon Appetite!

    Liked by 1 person

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