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I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, check my oil, and never let you forget you're a man.
But I'd rather YOU brought home the bacon, I'll fry it up in the pan, you never let me forget I'm a woman, that's just the way I am.
1950's - that's where my values are. I should have been born in the 1930's so I could raise a family in the '50's. I've always only wanted to grow up, get married, raise babies, clean house, iron my man's clothes, be a chef in the kitchen and entertain. Not how life turned out. So I do the best I can with the hand I've been dealt.
But when I see a retro dress like this - I get it and I pretend. This is one of my "power suits" as my mother likes to call the clothes that make you feel good about you. I put it on and I don't feel so frumpy and dumpy. I feel good and I carry myself more confidently. And I feel the way a woman was meant to - classy and feminine.
Raising (3) girls in this age of poor female role models is hard. Class seems non-existent in our culture at times - too much of the time. Girls wear too little clothing with words like "Juicy" across their butts, cleavage hanging out, and expletives flowing out the mouth. With the media throwing the likes of P. Hilton and B. Spears on the front covers of grocery store mags and television sets, it's hard to recall the days of classic women like Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn.
So, every now and then, I try to show my girls the importance of dressing well from time to time.
Even if I still have to check the oil in my car.
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