...said it once before but it bears repeatin'.....

Hi and Welcome to MyBetterHalf, Firstly, what this blog is NOT about: my husband (none), my boyfriend (he'd kill me), my best friend or my dog Sophie (sorry), not even my two cherished, beloved sons.....All of whom you will hear more about over time .... This blog is about, well, me. More specifically, the 2nd half of my life. ********** This blog is for you IF: You are a female. You are 40+ (or plan to be). You love to laugh. You love music. You are one of a kind. You are still waiting to feel like a "grown-up". You work out. You eat clean. You eat crap (sometimes). You're kinda vain (you horde make-up/hair products/skin care like they are fall-out rations). It took you a minute to figure out who you are... You need another minute to figure out who you are..... If ANY or all of the above apply to you, welcome to my blog. If not, in the very least you are in good company:)

Home Values Soar Despite Recession

It is 1994.  For the better part of two years my husband and I have been looking at houses, hoping to take advantage of a soft Real Estate market.  But I am now pregnant with our first child and bedridden with debilitating 24-hour-a-day morning sickness (an oxymoron, but all-too-accurate).  This has put a severe crimp in our plans, as I had been doing all the legwork until now.   But we are anxious to buy while prices and mortgage rates are still low, so we keep looking….

Two weeks before I deliver we move into our new home:  A beautiful, brand new, 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom house, in a community neighborhood, two blocks from a shul - And all for under $270,000!  They move me in, IV and all, and thus begins our life in what is to be our Dream House….

A number of things transpire over the next decade that affects the value of that house:  We are doing well financially and thus make incremental investments in home improvement: a finished basement for our two boys to play in, an in-ground pool with a two-tiered cobblestone patio for entertaining, lavish landscaping to compliment the façade of the house….  Additionally, the housing market has turned around; it is 2004 and our house and property have nearly tripled in value.  Unfortunately, there is an emotional deficit between us and the bottom has fallen out of the marriage.

I promise my boys that I will make sure their lives change as little as possible despite the divorce.  I seek, and find, a smaller house around the corner from the only home they have known since birth, and buy it.  I pay top dollar for that house (at a steep interest rate to boot), but do so willingly, in order to keep my promise to my kids.  I take solace in the fact that the family we bought it from had many, many years of happiness in it (good omen) and the inexplicable truth that it felt like ‘home” from the very first time I crossed its’ threshold.

We settle in and are just as happy as could be; our modest little 3 bedroom ranch is ‘home’ from the get-go.  I make sure that every room is warm and cozy and comfortable, like that favorite afghan we fight over Friday night.  I know this will be the house my kids remember as “mommy’s house” when they reminisce about their childhood. “Remember that couch we had in the den in Mommy’s house?”  “Remember those candles Mommy used to light in the winter – the ones that smelled like sugar cookies!”  “Remember that pantry with all the snacks that had that crazy light that went on and off?”  Remember, remember….  I know they will remember and I want those memories to be sweet.

The past 6 years have been good to us; we are a tight unit, my boys and I.  I have become a master at living on a budget; we have everything we need and enough of what we want.  Our greatest assets are our private jokes, cozy family Shabbats and our devotion to each other.  I can honestly say I have never, not for one moment, missed the house with the pool or any of the trimmings of that lifestyle.  Peace and love are a homes’ most valuable assets, in any market.

In the interim, the rest of the country has caught up with us; money is scarce and times are tough.  I look around me and don’t see a single family that isn’t feeling some effect of the down-trodden economy….  But something so lovely has come out of that; there is a sense of common ground that our community has lacked for a long time.  There’s no longer a stigma attached to not being able to afford that vacation, having to making a smaller wedding or buying camp clothes from ‘Tar-jay’.  Now everyone has to think twice about putting their kids in those after school programs or going for that impromptu dinner out.  Stressful?  Yes, for sure.  But the silver lining has been the shift in our priorities to the things that moneycannot buy; family, family time and ties.

While I was able to refinance last year when interest rates were at their lowest, I know that my house has decreased in its market value. I anxiously wait, along with the rest of the country, for our economy to improve.  I look forward to the day when we can loosen our belts a little more and budget ourselves a little less.  I pray that gd will help me to always be able to provide for my children’s needs, but am acutely aware that, as long as we have our health and each other, we are wealthy beyond compare. 

So our greatest lesson of the latest recession?  I’ve lived in the big house and I’ve lived in the small house and this much I know for sure: there’s no place like Home.

Go where the Peace is....

This is me folks, Nice ta know ya:)

"It's ok to want things that don't make sense to others, dear friend. It's ok to be content with a simple life, to pass up on things that others find tempting, to walk a path that is not often traveled...maybe even a path that has never been traveled before.

Please don't get caught up in the confusing, hurtful and destructive belief that you are somehow obligated to live the life that everyone else seems to think you should live. Please listen to YOUR heart. Please shut out the opinions, advice and voices of "reason" that make you feel so uneasy, confused and inadequate. Be with your truth....be with the source of that truth. Get quiet and listen listen listen to your heart.

Your path is your path....the very path that you were created to travel. Your decisions are your decisions...the very decisions that gd will help you to make. Go where the peace is....in your life, in your relationships, and especially in all of your decisions. Make choices that bring you the most peace....even when those decisions don't make sense to the outside world."

ANON

Dressing on the side, please.

It's 1975.  I'm in 7th grade and boy-girls parties are where it's at.  Looking back, they were dopey, awkward, pseudo-teenage affairs:  black light posters in someones basement, dancing to AM radio hits somebodies older brother (owner of said black light posters) put on a cassette tape.  At first no one dances; the girls cluster on one side of the room and the boys on the other.  Eventually, the most popular boy asks the most popular girl to dance and then everyone is dancing (yes, even me).  Every 30 minutes the dancing stops briefly so the cassette can be turned over but that's the basic gist of it.
Looking back, I don't remember wanting to go to these parties, I don't remember NOT wanting to go, I just went.  You got invited (everyone in the grade did) and you went.

It is Saturday nite and my mother and I are in Whoops - THE fashion mecca of the day - looking for an outfit for that nites party.  My really cute next door neighbors really cute girlfriend happens to work there:  tall, long blond hair parted in the middle, 18 years young, Brooklyn's very own Marsha Brady. Introvert that I was (Am. From the womb, I tell you. Thank gd it wasn't a multiple birth....), I was so out of the loop I didn't know there was a loop.  My mother is thrilled at our good fortune to be so well connected (sorry Rachel Zoe) and they hit the racks.

My mom comes back with an armful of hangers: Mainly Huc-a-poo shirts and Rags Jeans (if you are not familiar these, please DO NOT google them, fashion trauma will ensue).  I begrudgingly look through them and frown.  Having no choice I come out of the dressing room with the Rags on and face the mirror; I feel awful in them because even I can see they are not flattering on me.  That zig-zag stitching that looks so cool on my peers backsides makes me self conscious of my newly developing hips.  Behind my reflection I see my mothers', clearly trying but getting frustrated.  She sees I'm unhappy and wants me to be happy, but also wants to "accomplish" (see glossary).  "Well" she asks with forced patience, "what are 'they' wearing?"  They.  It's the way she says "They".   Articulated out loud, what has forever been the silent arbiter of her by proxy fashion decisions,  becomes what I must rally against.  I don't know if its the way she said it, the fact that SHE said it or my innate need to not conform, something shifts in me.  I become aware:  I want to look on the outside how I feel on the inside; different.  I don't feel like "They", I feel like Me.

My eyes scan the racks, actually discerning detail I had formerly been oblivious to.  A denim jumpsuit catches my eye.  It is a very dark indigo, heavy denim with darts at the waistline, long sleeves and a brushed nickel zipper that runs from the crotch to the neck.  That's it; no embellishment, no zig-zag stitching, no faded glory.  I've never seen anything like it and something about it sings to me.  I try it on.  It fits like a glove and I intuitively know (despite not yet knowing or understanding my body type and what does and doesn't work on it)  that it is flattering on me.  I love it and I am happy, so my mother is happy; we pay for it and leave.

I wear that outfit to the party that night.  I am not any prettier or more popular than I was the week before, but I have changed;  I am cognizant of how I look.  AND I feel good about how I look.  And while I am well aware that it is in part because I know that jumpsuit looks good one me, it is mainly because no one else is wearing anything like it and I LIKE that.  I never look back.

Fast forward to any decade in between then and now and the song remains the same.  In my late teens I  learn what works best on my body (anything tight that highlights my small waist and throw my full hips and thighs into flattering balance, nothing flouncy, clean lines, etc).  For a brief while I live in SKINTIGHT Levi 501s (complete with pliers to pull up the zipper while laying down on the bed to zip) and RED COWBOY BOOTS.  I have no recollection where I got those boots and am frankly flummoxed that anybody even made or sold them, but they did and I wore them.  To death.  Proudly.

In my twenties the uniform got an up/downgrade to my brothers 501 hand me downs, worn thin in all the right places (think the current wildly popular "boyfriend jean") .  I wore them cinched at the waist with a vintage leather belt that had a retro cowboy buckle, anything black on top and oxblood colored cowboy boots - year round.

In my thirties, married and with a bigger budget, I wore the more upscale version of the same: Big Star (et al) Jeans with tight fitting t-shirts and a wardrobe of cool, funky boots.  And while still immune to trends, I became smart/mature enough to occasionally give in to the ones I sense will work well on me (a brief affair with Vertigo Suits and Juicy sweat suits).  The common thread is always comfort, offbeat and form fitting.  And boots.  And a great Bag.  And an amazing Jacket.  Denim, leather, simple, original;  my wardrobe is generally the clothing equivalent of, say, Lauren Hutton: casual-classic, slightly offbeat, genuine, one of a kind.  Oh, I've made my share of fashion faux pas, trust me.  But I wore them at the time with pride and what the kids today would call swagger: Feathered earrings, parachute pants, the jackets and vests of my brothers 3 piece suits with jeans, stilettos and a wardrobe of fedoras, capezio dance shoes....  Always when no one else was wearing them and always with delight.  Proudly, in some cases, I was less out-of-fashion than simply waaaay ahead of my time:)

At 50, not much has changed.  While I now have to struggle a bit to maintain my waistline, its still there, and I still look best when it shows.  These days I have an arsenal of Lucky Brand and GAP 1969 jeans; all boot cut (try as I might, I simply cannot pull off the straight leg 'jeggings' thing that looks so cute on others.... ruins the whole waist/hip balancing act I have perfected).   My ever present Frye harness boots I have had going on 2 decades, Uggs for yucky weather (too bad, they're warm and cozy, top that!) and a newly acquired pair of plaid lined Doc Martens I suspect I will live in this winter (it needs to get cold already!!).  For tops I own a variety of cute logo Ts I wear in the summer and a ton of slouchy-soft-yummy over sized sweaters I wrap myself up in winter.  I have a HUGE collection of scarfs ranging from funky to floaty and ethereal, that I wear year round except in the heat of summer.  When possible (or irresistible) I splurge on the best leather bag I can afford (currently rocking a cognac, leather Lucky leather Cross Body I've owned for over a year and still get compliments on daily!) and I am always a sucker for a sharp jacket I know I will live in and will make me feel like I did when I wore that denim jumpsuit.

A few of my favorite things:

 

Winter Cozy Casual

My New Love

My True Love

My Hippiechick Luckys
threadbare but irreplaceable

For the record: I am a religious, voracious reader of fashion magazines, and can tell you, at any given time, what is "in" at the moment.  But those books are entertainment for me and have little, if anything, to do with what is in my closet.  It took me four decades to come to terms with the fact that people don't 'get' me, no doubt due in some part to my style choices, and I'm cool with it.  So, Anna Wintour, Andre Leon Talley and Nina Garcia, keep on doin' what ya do....  Love what yer serving, but as always, I'll take my dressing on the side.

Peace

Rudy

Glossary:

accomplish - When a Jewish woman goes shopping with a specific goal ("I have nothing to wear to the wedding/bar mitzvah/shiva.  I'm gonna have to go shopping.") and she finds something to buy.  It is the retail equivalent of mission accomplished.

Welcome to MyBetterHalf :)

Hi and welcome to MyBetterHalf (heretofore referred to as mbh, 'cause i'm a lazy/poor typist).

What this blog is NOT about: my husband (none), my boyfriend (he'd kill me), my best friend or my dog (sorry Sophie), not even my two cherished, beloved sons.....All of whom you will hear more about in the coming days and weeks....  This blog is about, well, me.  More specifically, the 2nd half of my life.

I turned "the big 5-0" this past June.  Very Anti-climatic, altho to be honest that's partly because from the DAY I turned 49 I started thinking of myself as "FIFTY".... to kinda soften the blow for the coming year - it TOTALLY worked, btw.  But mainly because I havent felt my age in..... Wow, a long damn time.  I always kinda felt a good decade younger than any milestone b-day I had (20 at 30, 30 at 40, etc).

Gratefully, the 40s were fabulous to me - which is not uncommon for women....  I really came into my own and love the experience of feeling good in my own (admittedly aging) skin.    If you ask me how old I think I look?  No Clue.  I am told that I dont look my age and I want to believe it, but beauty is in the eye of, blah blah blah.  But when people ask me how old I feel, I always settle on 32... I don't know why....  I just kinda wriggle around in it in my mind and it 'fits'....  Yeah, in my head I'm 32; I feel it, I act it, I dress it (shut up).  32;  I'm good with that.

And on that topic, I read an interesting statistic online last nite: Women are at their happiest at the age of 33, so... Yay!  Good stuff comin' for me!!  Check it out, then tell me what you think:
http://madamenoire.com/151406/do-you-know-what-age-women-are-the-happiest/

mbh will likely veer (hopefully with grace) from the serious to the sardonic and back because I am, after all, behind the wheel and you guys are just along for the ride.    But I'm not ashamed to stop and ask for directions, can tolerate a tactful back seat driver,  plus I will need to pull over to nap occasionally, so input input input please.

Welcome to my Blog:)