Call Me An Old Crow

It doesn’t get more beautiful than this.
Daphne Self by Nick Ballon

Recently I had a rigorous dinner of fondue and wine.

Sourdough. Melted Cheese. Bordeaux. Repeat. Dark Chocolate. Marshmallows. Strawberries. Bordeaux. Repeat ad nauseam. An entirely indulgent, glutinous and divine meal that has nothing remotely cleansing about it.

The feast was enjoyed while on holiday with happy kids and husband and an infectious, lovely friend. This kind of consumption usually leaves me feeling awful. In that self-loathing bloated, heavy, disgusted, “I suck” way. But enjoyed with gut busting, eyes tearing, joyous laughter, I left lighter on my feet than I would had I limited myself to a lonely salad with dressing on the side and a glass of filtered water, no ice.

This all came on the heels of hearing that certain celebrities won’t smile in photos for fear of crow’s feet. Apparently this is big entertainment “news”. Add to that this little tidbit from the Victoria Beckham 73 Questions from Vogue piece and her response to her least favorite question, “why don’t you smile?” answered with “I’m smiling on the inside. I feel that I have a responsibility to the fashion community.”

I had no idea smiling and laughter in the fashion community was like getting Ebola. Finally there’s something in fashion I don’t want.

Lets makes Crow’s Feet the “it” accessory of 2015. While it’s hard to compete in the world of Keeping Up With the Fabulous, laughter wins over any “must-have” wait-list accessory every time. Besides, it looks good on all of us and there’s no price nor size tag attached.

Here’s to a 2015 full of crow’s feet generating belly laughs. And more fondue. Now that is something to crow about.