At our last slumber party, we were in high school. We talked about boys and sex, compared shades of lipstick, and put our hair up in pin curls while we drank a few beers and shared a pack of cigarettes obtained from an undisclosed source. If we got bored, we could always think of something to do, such as hook our 32A bras together and run them up the flagpole of the elementary school. If we slept at all, it was on the floor or curled up on anything that was relatively flat and soft.
This year the same eight friends decided to celebrate a significant birthday. We required more amenities this time so took adjoining suites at a hotel outside of Chicago where we had more privacy and no one had to sleep on the floor.
We were more interested in snacks than in alcohol, and no one smoked. Instead of comparing shades of lipstick, we discussed the relative merits of resilience lift, visible lift and zero-gravity firming cream. We didn’t bother to talk about sex — that would be the equivalent of a bunch of vegetarians discussing sirloin steak — and everyone was in bed by ten o’clock.
The first evening, we shared wine and cheese, caught up on each other’s families, and discussed how our lives had changed. Most of us had careers at some point in our lives, entering the work force in one of the three occupations — teacher, nurse or secretary — available to women at that time.
Over the years, opportunities for women opened up, and we took advantage of them. We had a minister, a real estate agent, a publishing executive and a computer expert in our group. Our daughters did even better —among them a doctor, an editor and a lawyer.
We are proud of them and trust them to solve some of the awesome problems facing our world — leaving us time to have some fun.
On that birthday weekend, we managed to replicate some of the antics of our youth. When we were in high school, we all bought the same broomstick skirt; now we bought the same travel raincoat. We didn’t use our long eyelashes and feminine wiles, but we managed to talk a policeman out of a traffic ticket after our driver explained to him that the reason she made a left turn on the red arrow was that the GPS instructed her to do so. I think that he is still scratching his head.
One thing we didn’t do was to hook together our much larger than 32A bras and run them up the flagpole.
We didn’t want to scare anyone.