To her relief, Paula doesn’t have her period anymore. If I’m honest with myself, I’m scared not to have mine. I fear crossing over into that zone called menopause. It feels like some horrible badge of shame that says YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY AND UNDENIABLY OLD AND POSSIBLY EVEN UNATTRACTIVE, USELESS AND DONE. I know viewed from the younger side of the hill I currently stand on, menopause does feel like the end, but once I’m comfortable in my uncomfortable hot-flash, moisture-deprived skin, there’ll be something really liberating about being in the valley headed toward the pasture. Right? When I’m finally walking down that hill, will the clouds part, angels sing and will my husband be waiting on the other side still wanting to have sex with me?
I fondly remember giggling with my friends when our “schedules” synced up and we’d eat salt then sugar then salt again and complain about our parents in our “I’m on my period” hormonal rants. Bloated and bitchy we were “blood sisters”.
I’m realizing that this past weekend, I courageously stepped toward menopause when Paula and my shopping habits synced up, regardless of the 2,000 miles that separates us. Who needs all that salt, sugar and hormones when you can have Chanel and blood-free underpants. I know, nasty, but certainly true. I’d much rather be a Chanel Sister than a Blood Sister any day. That double CC logo will be my badge of freedom from my pimpled, misspent youth.
Like any good sister, listen to Paula’s advice on how to buy Chanel.
And I would add that Chanel, more than any other label, holds its value. Which means you can get a fairly decent return on your splurge if you tire of it and re-sell it on consignment or ebay.
I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of having a misspent second half. So by all means, have a Chanel period. Exclamation point!
Here’s my Chanel journey up to now. Its only just begun.