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Sunday, 10.9.05:  Out with the Old

Greta NissenThe other night I went to a gathering of women where we were supposed to bring a symbol of something we wanted to get rid of and throw it into the bonfire. I brought a cardboard cutout representing my dullest self -- the self who wears baggy pants and raggedy old t-shirts, the no-lipstick self who comfortably fades from view and makes no impression. Into the fire she went.

Yesterday I spend all day scanning and formatting 113 Hollywood studio portraits -- large format photos of 1920s and 30s actresses -- icons of cool style.

So why don't I feel glamorous!?

Maybe -- for starters -- because (while I was incinerating my frumpy side) I ate and drank enough to pack on 3 pounds of bloat. How did the bon vivants on Sex & the City manage to eat and drink so much and still look gorgeous? I guess that's the essence of fantasy.

But it wouldn't hurt for me to back up my bonfire ritual and fantasies with some action...





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