We all know people who have to be the center of attention. When they’re at a party, they shine in direct proportion to the number of people surrounding them. When they’re on their cell phones, they want everyone to hear their “important” conversations. When they’re trying on clothes in a shop, they parade around the dressing room, hoping the other customers will admire their great bods.
She seems to be seeking less attention lately
Some attention seekers want everyone to think they’re the prettiest and sexiest gals in the room. Others need to be the funniest, the smartest or the coolest. The attention validates them, like it does for celebrities.
Even when they get attention, they frequently remind us how much they’re loved and admired.
I now understand that many of these people are actually insecure. The attention momentarily reduces or takes away their insecurity, which prompts them to seek more attention. I should feel a little bad for people who need such adoration, but they can be do darn intrusive and irritating.
My heart goes out to the 85-year-old woman who was robbed and sexually assaulted a couple of days ago on 83rd Street and Madison Avenue, one of the wealthiest corners of Manhattan. She was out walking at 5:30 am, when a young man forced her into an out-of-sight entryway to one of the private houses on the block and made her perform oral sex. The depraved animal is now on the run. Luckily, a camera captured his image.
The majority of women in our mothers’ generation, like generations of women before them, is physically and mentally vulnerable to attacks such as this. I don’t believe the FOF generation will be as vulnerable because we’re stronger all around. I won’t necessarily be able to overtake a 25-year-old brute with sheer force, but I sure would figure out a way to kick him in the —- before I went near his penis. I’d risk my life for it.
My 29-year-old daughter, Simone, did something for the first time today: She bought makeup. Fair-complected with blue eyes, she’s a natural beauty who isn’t a fan of hair salons or cosmetic counters. I’ve long thought she should wear at least a little makeup, but Simone never agreed, so I stopped bringing up the subject.
Mone gets made up
Today, as we were strolling up Madison Avenue, I mentioned that I wanted to buy a lipstick. “Noel thinks I should wear some makeup,” she suddenly reported, but didn’t let on whether she agreed with her long-time boyfriend. I saw my opening when I was looking at lipstick shades at one of Barney’s gazillon cosmetic counters. “Why don’t you let this young man put some makeup on you,” I casually suggested. “If you don’t like it, you’ll take it off.” (Now, that’s a genius thing to say!)
Simone agreed to have Fifo, the charming makeup maven who was helping me, apply lip gloss, eye shadow and liner. She was pleased by the results and bought a pale pinkish shadow, a black pencil liner, a couple of brushes, a pale pink gloss and a package of wipes to remove eye makeup. She wasn’t going near the mascara or blush, she told me. “I’d feel weird.”
A little bit of makeup really does go a long way, I think. Who couldn’t use a bit of color in her life, even my colorful daughter, Mone.
I’ve got to lose 20 pounds, so I started dieting four days ago. I’m not starving myself, but I’ve cut out the sugar-laden foods that I’ve been gobbling up after 10 pm on a pretty consistent basis. This includes cupcake frosting, the crumb topping on the cakes David brings home religiously (he swims 75 minutes a day and weighs three pounds!) and assorted candies. I was never big on sweets until three years ago, when I quit drinking. I’m still treating myself to a little bit of sugar, such as a teaspoon of jam on top of 2 percent fat cottage cheese or a tablespoon of raisins.
