by Jessica Becht
A generation or two ago, crossing the Atlantic aboard a palatial ocean liner was a luxury reserved for the moneyed class. In our time, however, stigma-free second mortgages have democratized the travel industry. Leisurely ocean voyages are no longer the especial preserve of the elite. Yet, the fabled glamour of yesteryear too often intimidates the modern traveler. Miss Middle America may even pass up a yearned for world tour, fearing her tatty wardrobe might provoke a sound snubbing from apocryphal snobs Mrs. Moneybags and Sir Spendalot.
Like any sophisticate, the typical American miss has sniveled over Titanic and slumped in a catatonic slaver before umpteen re-runs of The Love Boat. Bemused, she dithers over whether to stuff her steamer trunks with Edwardian corsets or alluring polyester gowns? In truth, both options are passé and an unassuming new aesthetic prevails. The motto of today's modish traveler is Careless Comfort.
So, gird your loins with fanny packs and prepare to set sail! The following fundamentals will swathe you in an aura of slapdash glamour to rival any seven seas Siren.
By Sharon Grehan-Howes
Don't attend funerals of people you don't know.
Don't try to outdo the family's grief.
Don't use the occasion to "schmooze".
Don't videotape the service.
By Meredith Litt
In perhaps its most chilling production yet, The Domestication Network has
unveiled a controversial new film starring Virginia McMaiden as the ambitious Jane Smith.
Jane Smith is a 30-year-old woman still living under her parents' roof. Because they have provided for her since infancy, she has not left the house since graduating from high school, reassured by her parents that there is nothing of value beyond their white picket fence. However, after spending an evening at home with her high school friends (who are all college alumnae), she decides that she wants to step outside the confines of her childhood home and experience adulthood. MORE
by Jennifer Gravel Vanasse
There is a problem with our society and how we women have been programmed to live in it. From birth we are set on a path of dating, marriage, children and then retirement and death. Sadly, divorce is now a very common part of the cycle, clearly a sign that somewhere things have gone awry. Still, we comply as inexorably as geese flying south for the winter. Is this a case of "misery loves company"? Isn't it possible that tradition is leading us astray?
There you are an eligible young woman, out on the town having a great time with your best friend. These are the happiest days of your life. The fun is at its peek. You have no obligations other than to continue working to support your shoe-habit and no attachments other than to your best friend whom you adore more than anyone else in the world. Then, Mr. Right comes along and the pheromones start to fly. You fall deeply, madly in love. The older women in your family will finally be proud of you, having "landed" a man.