Wear More Purple, Chartreuse, and Tangerine

By Sally Franz

A poem by Jenny Joseph, begins “When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple, with a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.”

This sweet poem spawned “The Red Hat Society” by a group of women over 55 who decided to celebrate all things crone. And while a crone is described as ugly woman, she is also said to be thin, so there’s that going for it.

My sister once grabbed a few red hats from the nearby Thrift Store and took me to a Red Hat Society luncheon. The gist of it seemed to be to wag on about the unfairness of aging, cheating husbands, and all the fun ahead for women of a certain age. I was underwhelmed.

I was probably not inspired to get out of the box of June Clever because I was never in that box. I was more like Zelda from Doobie Gillis. When I was around ten my mother let a Bohemian friend take me to Greenwich Village for a week-end. Somewhere between the flower market and the coffee shop, I knew I wanted to be a beatnik when I grew up. Especially because half the people on the street playing bongos and guitars were women with gray streaking their long wiry hair. It was subtle, but I knew in my heart that an alternative lifestyle meant picking your own purpose and living it until your last breath.

Of course this knowledge was well stuffed down out of sight by the time I was twenty and decided to get married and raise a family. But every now and then it burst out of me like lyrics that never die.

I didn’t make a traditional snowman with my kids. We made a snow caterpillar and each snowball was sprayed with food coloring of a different color. I taught songs to my kids which I made up myself. I remember having neighbor kids in the car and my kids would say, “Let’s sing the one about the hay in the fields.” Then the other kids would say, “We don’t know that one.” And my kids would whine, “Mom was that another one of your songs?” (The first of many times I have been able to embarrass them publically — which is after all my job, is it not?)

After the mothering gig, I got corporate work. That wasn’t as successful because if the people on top were sleazy I had them fired or I’d secretly arrange a free TV up close and personal interview…on “60 Minutes.” Nope, I just couldn’t go with the flow even for big bucks. Not great on the resume either. “Why did you leave your last job?” “I had their sorry butts fired for being corrupt and I am willing to do that to you too.”

Next I had my own corporate consulting company. This was perfect. If a company was unscrupulous to work for I just didn’t renew my contract. It was fun. I did a lot of training with folks with uppity jobs. I liked these people. They had stronger stomachs than I did. So I’d reward them for having to do yet another day of pointless training. (Fact Tip: most problems can be fixed in corporate America NOT by training employees but by making the top brass tell the truth and stop cheating their workers.)

What did I do with these elite movers and shakers? Easy. I sang more made-up songs. I would draw pictures on my flip chart. My favorite was a lesson in bottom-up communication with those nefarious bosses. I would draw a picture of a piñata. I would say how do they make a piñata? They cover it with layers of paper. This is a burro. Cover your “burro” with paper. Document everything you ever send anyone so they can’t blame their stupid, often substance-induced errors on you. And no, the people who paid me never knew about the songs or the drawings. Hey, you can take the hippie out of the Village, but…

But back to the colors purple, red, and what have you. It was a great idea in the poem, but then some uber-organizer had to make a Society out of it. No, no, no, you don’t buck societal norms by creating another society. You want to have lunch with your peer group to “kvetch” about how society treats women? Great. But why not get past the pity party and change things the good old 60s way? Post a petition to change laws, demand better healthcare. Somewhere between the salad and the chocolate-to-die-for-brownie, talk about a candidate that will help you and your granddaughters.

Red? Purple? Let’s up the ante of anti-establishment. I say wear tie-dyed. BUT not the stupid print ones you buy made in China. If you want to wear bright colors after you turn 55, then go out and buy Ritz dyes, a bag of rubber bands, and clothes pins. Buy a used white T-shirt at Goodwill and get to it. Forget how? There is likely a YouTube to jog your memory.

Sally Franz is a former stand-up comedian, motivational speaker, and radio host. She is a twice-divorced mother of two and a grandmother of three. Sally has a degree in gerontology and several awards for humor writing. She is the author of “Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey,” and “The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause.”