First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

Shopping Tale from Cyber Monday

On Black Friday, against my better judgment, I went shopping. On the hunt for a marked down “puffer” jacket, I roamed through crowded stores ranging from The Gap to Neiman Marcus. I need the jacket (really, I do!) for a trip to Memphis this weekend, and though it may seem over the top to bundle up for Tennessee, I’m an L.A. weather wimp, with no real outerwear to call my own.

No one dragged me shopping, and I love a bargain as much as the next woman, but I lack the patience to comb through racks of unsorted merchandise for a gem in the rough.  (I’m not a flea market shopper either.) I prefer experts to do the curating for me, so that everything I look at is beautiful and easy to find. I often sit out sales, and live in regret when I hear about the amazing discounts I’ve missed. Which is probably why I hate online dating. Spending hours squinting at thumbnail photos of men I have no desire to go out with, in the hopes of finding that one decent guy (that fits), really depresses me.

On the bright side, it’s Cyber Monday and I counterintuitively darted to the mall, and found the cutest black puffer at H&M. This one fits like a dream, for only $49.95.

(Photo by Trent Parke, 2006, Magnum Photos.)

When Holidays Work

1. A close friend with whom I have no friction is here for a 5-day visit.
2.  This close friend is a floral designer (and straight!) and schlepped 3 dozen flowers on the plane with him to decorate the Thanksgiving table.
3.  It’s 75 degrees and sunny in Los Angeles, but chilly enough in the evening to feel like autumn.
4. Everyone in my immediate circle is in relative good health.
5.  Earlier this week, I got a holiday bargain, enabling me to completely side step Black Friday and still feel satisfied.
6.  Food shopping, DONE. Kabocha squash and fennel soup, DONE. What’s left is cooking the fun stuff.
7.  I’m feeling relaxed enough about my to-do’s that I’m heading to the movies.
8. The ballet studio I go to is open on Thanksgiving. More exercise, more food.
9.  No recent dating mishaps to angst over. Haven’t been on Match.com for a week.

(Photo: Elliott Erwitt, Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade Balloon, 1986. Magnum Photos.)

Sanctity of Food

I’m still obsessing about food, having just returned from my fourth trip to the market. Today, everyone was getting into the spirit of the season, as they picked out the choicest produce and meats, and generally upped their culinary game. I like being part of a moment where the collective thrust is nourishment.

Thanksgiving is the gateway holiday, and the best one. There are no gifts, religious observances, or any obligatory midnight kiss. The biggest question I’m grappling with is whether I’ll be trampling on too many traditions by NOT serving a whole turkey and mashed potatoes. My strategy is to start guests off with jumbo-sized Manhattans, and after that, everything will seem rosy, with or without the drumstick.

The Art of Eating

Cooking soothes me. Battling my way through a congested market right before Thanksgiving, does NOT. My menu and guest list are set. We will be six for Thanksgiving dinner, an arty mix of close friends and acquaintances, varying in age, sexual preference and gender. What links us is being single, though that’s a coincidence, since I invited couples as well, who were unable to come.

Obsessively browsing through recipes this last week, I was reminded of the gifted writer, M.F.K. Fisher, who said in response to all those who questioned why her work was focused on food, eating and drinking:

The easiest answer is to say that, like most humans, I am hungry. But there is more than that. It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it.

(Illustration by Andy Warhol for a children’s book, The Little Red Hen, available at auction next month in New York.)

To Squeeze Or Not: 2009 Mammogram Debate

This has been a noisy week for women’s health. Just as we were getting revved up to battle against the horrific Stupak Amendment, two nonpartisan panels released recommendations suggesting that women would be better served by having fewer pap smears and mammograms than previously advised. Sounds GREAT to me. I have an annual mammogram scheduled for next month, but now, I’m thinking about canceling it. I’ll consult with my levelheaded gynecologist first, but not till after Thanksgiving, when her phone lines aren’t so jammed.

I’ve read a lot of pushback since these recommendations were announced, the most pathetic of which has come from politicians. I’m sorry, but I do not take kindly to agenda-driven men (with an agenda other than my well-being) telling me what to do about my body. But I share other women’s anxiety. For years, we’ve been led to believe that early detection is the holy grail. Please check out Gail Collins’ really smart column, The Breast Brouhaha in the New York Times. Sanity is so reassuring.

Update: My gynecologist is suggesting to all her patients to keep getting mammograms with the same frequency as before.

The Wedding Vow

Sharon Olds, described as one of America’s greatest living poets, is 67 years old today. In 2005, Olds declined the invitation by First Lady Laura Bush, to read from her work and attend festivities at the White House. Depending on my mood, I respond differently to Olds’ poem, The Wedding Vow. Sometimes reading it makes me sad that I’ve never had the altar experience, but more often, I’m grateful to momentarily wrap myself in the love and commitment she beautifully describes.

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Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

I am not a real ballet dancer, but I pretend to be four times a week in ballet class. It’s a fool’s hobby, because even competence is hardly attainable, and yet, despite the long odds, I’m hooked. At Westside Ballet in Santa Monica, I have the privilege of studying with a master teacher, now 81, who gives me hope that maybe next time, I’ll land a perfect pirouette, or soar with graceful arms and pointed toes, during a grand jeté.

Frederick Wiseman, one of the great documentary filmmakers, focused his camera on one of the premier ballet companies, and the result, according to most reviewers, is one of the best dance films of all time. LA DANSE: PARIS OPERA BALLET is trickling out at movie theaters around the country (check release schedule) and I will be there opening weekend to look up and dream.

(More) Things I Can’t* Do Myself

Fasten the clasp of my mother’s heirloom watch
Peel Kabocha squash
Carve a turkey
Unlock twist pump dispensers
Anything automotive **
Zip up this one particular dress
Take a decent photo
Climb a ladder
Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve
Birthday **
Drive a car in Manhattan
Comprehend tectonic plates (relevant if you live in earthquake-prone California)
Rotate my mattress
Choose a paint color for the walls
Break down cartons for recycling
Attend a wedding

* If pressed, I could probably do most things on this list myself. (** Except for these.) But I’d prefer not to.

WHAT’S ON YOUR LIST?

How To Tie A Scarf

I used to be intimidated about wearing scarves, imagining it was best left to Upper East ladies with their latest Hermes. But I was wrong. All I needed was a little guidance and the eternally chilly weather in San Francisco, to convert me. Even now, living in L.A., I don’t hesitate during most seasons to grab a wrap. (They’re no longer as woolly). A friend recently admitted that she had no idea how to tie a scarf. Here’s a short video that demonstrates my two favorite ways of wearing one. Add some swagger and you’re on your way.

Why I Need A Husband…Or Maybe Not

Cartoon by Mick Stevens, appearing in The New Yorker, 11/16/09. Alternative solution by Oxo Good Grips jar opener.