By Jeffrey Paolano
Nana’s cream silk shirt and tailored slacks are sensational. Her bobbed wig is of human hair. Her war paint: impeccable.
“Nana’s fabulous,” exclaims Marjorie, granddaughter and devotee.
“What’s she do it for?” asks Cathy, daughter-in-law.
“She’s never said, and nobody asks,” says Marjorie.
“Not seemly, ya know, not seemly,” says a mousy Cathy.
“Maybe we can all use a little attention to detail,” says Marjorie, with lifted eyebrow.
Nana floats by on a waft of scent, places her crepe skinned hand against Cathy’s cheek. “Nice of you to come, my dear.”
Blushed, Cathy fingers her hair.
“Syrup sweet,” laughs Marjorie appreciatively.
Us older folks like to play dress-up once in a while, and throw you youngsters off balance..