Time to wear the mask baby! Whether you like it or not, COVID is here to stay. Think of this as shiat on a shoe. Even if you think you removed it from your shoe, it’s still there. That smell. You just can’t get rid of it.
This is analogous to COVID. Get it?
COVID is NOT goin’ away. At least not until more people get vaccinated.
I for one, never had COVID. I have no idea why I did not catch this virus, or, shall I say, COVID never caught me. However, I march on!
Dr. Fauci’s COVID Prevention Tips
I have done everything my spiritual leader Dr. Fauci requested
Wear a mask indoors at public places.
I got vaccinated.
I wash my hands all day long.
I take a shower at least once a day (for good measure).
Dr. Fauci’s COVID Prevention List is based on Science. However, in addition to Fauci’s list, we Hot Mamas need to follow a COVID Prevention List that is an outgrowth of everyday life.
I don’t know about y’all, but I have created my own COVID Prevention Tips List which is based on Gay’s Common Sense.
Gay’s COVID Prevention Tips not Mentioned by Dr. Fauci:
1. Get SCOPE/Breath Freshener Spray for your breath! When you wear a mask, FYI, your breath stinks!
2. Wear a mask in bed: for relationships that are falling apart due to the pandemic, masking is a great excuse, I mean priceless opportunity to ‘stay safe’.
3. For Vaccinated families: Too much togetherness! INfighting has returned! Don’t we know it honey! That Delta Variant is yet another great excuse for postponing family gatherings.
4. If you are shopping at TJ Maxx and you see another hot mama checkin’ out a designer label dress in your size, feign a coughing attack! Watch everyone run away from you! Go in for the kill and grab the dress!
You betcha baby! This event was liberating. No masks. Peeps vaccinated. What a wonderful opportunity to ‘mingle’ again. It was akin to a ‘Get Out of COVID Jail Free Card’.
Kudos to Tracy
Sistahs, y’all gotta give credit when credit is deserved. Tracy hosted this intimate soirée to join with Grazia Magazine USA to celebrate their recent publication “The Grazia Gazette: The Hamptons Volume II.
And I got invited!
I know! You are just dyin’ to know what the event was like!
Well, let’s set the scene.
East Hampton Point
If I must say so myself, Tracy and her team, were brilliant in picking this location.
The ‘Point’ has always been a spectacular location for a restaurant. It is situated on the harbor in East Hampton, where you can literally soak in the sun, boats and be part of that swanky, upscale bar scene.
Bring it on girlfriends! Welcome back to the good ole’ new days!
See and Be Seen!
Gay is bustin’ loose sistahs! Break out out the booze, pop the champagne, and let’s party!
In Gay’s fantasy world, I envisioned myself sashayin’ through the restaurant to schmooze with any famous peeps that could be at this event.
And y’all know me, I was on a mission to find at least one celeb! Amen to that!
If I do say so myself, I think I just might have pulled off my master plan to look absolutely stunnin’! I’d love to look breath-takin’, but let’s not push it.
Fear Not sistahood! Despite the obstacles thrown in my path, notably aging, a bad back, bad feet, gross hands and nails, bags under my eyes, and perilous belly bloat, I was determined to create a vision of a newGay that would last the duration of the luncheon.
Indeed. Think of an older version of the fairy tale Cinderella, but no fairy godmama, and an old(er) Cindy.
The only fairy dust I had was a tube of some miracle under eye cream that purportedly magically erases wrinkles and flattens those dark, puffy circles.
Gimme Gimme Gimme!
Problem: the cream only works for a few hours, and then everything goes back to shiat.
Yes, my tale could end up worse than Cindy’s. Could you imagine I’m a schmoozin’ with a celeb, and all of a sudden, one eye, then another eye, starts to sag and puff out? Oh, the shame of it all. Timin’ is everything, and I cannot overstay my welcome!
I tried my bestest. I shopped at the finest of stores, TJ Maxx in Bridgehampton. And girl, did I ever luck out! I almost had to run over another chick to grab that dress.
As I live and breathe, the day that I scored a Theory dress and cute Wedges was a very good day. Go figure! Better than sex!
Why better than sex? The dress and shoes last way longer than one orgasm! Think girls, think!
But a dress don’t glam you up. No, no, no. Bring on the jewels and the fancy schmancy handbag! Even if they be faux, no matter ladies! You have to package yourself and give the image that you are the real deal baby!
Remember my mantra: It is not how you feel, but it is how you look! And dahlin’, you look mahvelous!
Fellow hot mamas, I did it. Yes! Despite my deep rooted insecurities, I pulled off the impossible and, if I do say so myself, actually looked damn good! Or, as good as I can look at this point in my life.
The Wine, The Peeps!
Life. A beautiful thing. Particularly when you are schmoozin’ in East Hampton and the Rosé was just a-flowin’.
And yes, Garçon, s’il vous plaît, I shall have another glass!
After cocktails, we were escorted to a secluded porch and were seated at a very long table, which was adorned with fresh flowers and beautiful linen. My seat was purr-fect. Really. I had a direct view of the harbor, and even spotted a stunning yacht or two. Not too bad for moi, a nobody.
However, who knew I would be seated alongside the nicest, funniest people. Really. Go figure! I met a professional photographer, a Branding Expert, a Marketing Expert, and a person who sells Caviar. Wow. What fun!
I could go on and on about this soirée, however, time was a tickin’! After a few hours, I realized I needed to make a dash for it, before I turned back into a 57 year old woman who was cooped up in a house for 18 months.
I also had another engagement I needed to attend, so it was time for me to skedaddle! I know, such a busy person! So many places to go, people to see!
I bid a fond adieu to my new friends and drove off to the next event! The good news was that as I looked into the car’s rearview mirror, I noticed my eyes were still intact and the eye cream was in fact magical.
It happened. I finally received my first invite to a luncheon this summer! In the Hamptons, no less!
An Emotional Moment
Girlfriends, can we talk?
My head is spinning. Now I am gettin’ a hot flash. Do I detect a little underarm perspiration?
I mean, really. This is big news! At least in my teeny tiny world. Someone actually wanted little ole’ me to attend their event. Can you believe it?
And between you and me, this is not your regular iced tea and salad lunch date.
You betcha baby! This is a Hamptons Luncheon, where attendees include a magazine and a celebrity.
Oy vey. I am totally verklmept. Work with me kids. Basic Yiddish 101 for being ‘overcome with emotion’.
You can be sure that when I received the invite, I responded ‘yes’ within 5 seconds. Well, maybe I waited a minute, so as not to reveal my irrational exuberance!
To be clear, I am a refined, highly educated, sophisticated Woman, who knows how to exercise restraint.
Yeah right girlfriends! And believe me when I tell you that this Hot Mama is as subtle as a bull in a China shop!
It has been like forever… since I attended a luncheon.
What do you wear to a ‘luncheon event’ in the Hamptons? I have no idea. Of course, I emailed the person who invited me, and asked “ What is the Attire?”.
I know. I am a total schmuck to even inquire as to what to wear to a Hamptons Luncheon. Like Duh. the answer was: “A dress”.
Sistahs, I knew I would have to wear a dress.
I am sorry. I just feel that I do not look good in a dress. Keep in mind, this is just in my head. On the rare occasion that I ‘don’ a dress, ‘the people’, A.K.A. ‘onlookers’ or ‘gawkers’ always compliment me.
People lie. Sad but true.
So many factors create this poor self-image. On the day that I have to wear a dress, I could have bad belly bloat akin to that of a woman who is 6 months pregnant.
I have very long, skinny legs, which were constantly mocked by other kids during my childhood. Not only was I brutalized for having the name ‘Gay’, but kids managed to refer to me as ‘Olive Oil’ or ‘Chicken Legs’. I know. Nice.
There is some baggage that never gets lost.
However, the funny thing with dresses is that I never need them fitted. I literally waltz into TJ Maxx, pick a dress off the rack, and go home. No, I rarely try on a dress prior to purchasing it, because I can literally ‘eyeball’ the dress style and measurements and know it will fit.
I know, I know. And I am biatchin’ and moanin’ that I don’t like to wear a dress. What can I say?
Pick a Damn Dress
Clearly, I will wear a dress to this event.
Problem: So many dresses to choose! Rumor has it, I have a few summer frocks in my closet. Many of these dresses are pre-pandemic.
Query: Are they still in style? I don’t know. I don’t wear dresses!
The attire for the luncheon calls for a ‘summer dress’. So, it can’t be a fancy schmancy evening cocktail or party dress. Well, scratch those black dresses off the list.
As I peruse through my closet, I find a cute pink dress, another white dress with flowers, you get the picture. This is when I get nervous. Do I try them on? Would they be too loud? Let’s face it, I am loud enough, that I do not need to wear a fuchsia dress to an intimate luncheon. Or can I? I just don’t know!
Emergency Run to TJ Maxx
You betcha baby. I went runnin’ to TJ Maxx to find a new dress. Keep in mind, the dresses in my closet were only worn once (if that).
Of course, I found these beautiful silky, flowy Theory dresses. You betcha baby! I saw another mama oglin’ the dresses.
I ask my sistahs: What is a crazed hot mama to do? You know me to well! I jumped to the rack with those long chicken legs of mine and grabbed the dresses from the rack and ran to the cashier with my AMEX card in hand!
Aw, no hard feelings. Hell no! Sorry biatch… you know the rules in TJ Maxx. If the prized dress is not in your hand, then too bad, so sad for you girlfriend. You snooze, you lose. So sad. Not!
I have a problem. I know, I am fraught with issues.
My hairstylist is Amy, and she is amazing. She books out for appointments months in advance.
2 weeks ago, I show up for my scheduled appointment for my color and haircut. And by the by, this appointment is like clockwork.
However, this appointment is different than all other appointments (and no, this is not a lead-in to Passover). I walk in the door, and Amy does not say ‘hi’, rather, she says in jaw-dropped surprise, “what are you doing here”.
Well, what kind of greeting is that? I’m thinkin’ to myself, which I actually blurted out, “are you kidding me?”. Like OMG. I thought I was going to faint.
Girlfriends, to me, hair is sacred. Excuse Moi, but really.
I have known Amy for 19 years… this never happened. Amy can’t find my appointment in her calendar. Well, wouldn’t ya know that OCD Gay kept the email appointment confirmation from Amy.
Yes ma’m. Exhibit ‘A’: Amy sent me an email that she drafted 2 months ago confirming the appointment she scheduled for me.
Amy could only color my hair, not cut it. Biatch! But what was I to do? I am at her mercy.
Sistahs, the hairstylist is the ruler of my universe. I don’t ask for much in life, just good consistent color and a nice haircut.
And you know what I got that day? Bupkus! Which means not much. The color came out too light, and I needed a haircut, which I did NOT get. I tried to be subtle, and hide my disappoint and tears, but again, that would not be me.