by Bad Girl (Melodie Campbell)
One thing the Catholic Church really has going for it is a vast army of Guardian Angels. These are wonderful beings whose sole purpose is to guide you through life, and prevent you from making really embarrassing mistakes…those everyday kind of mistakes such as hopping a last minute flight to Argentina with Raoul instead of baking more cookies for the school fundraiser, like you promised.
But for those of us who weren’t born Catholic, what we need is a Fairy Godmother. Not the old fashioned kind who dresses in 1950s prom dresses and goes around changing vegetables into vehicles. Nope – I want someone on my side: a modern, down-to-earth Fairy Godmother, who will answer all those pesky questions that everyone else always sidelines.
In fact, I can visualize my personal Fairy Godmother. She would be about 65 years old (but would only admit to 49) with a petrified blond hairdo and a Brooklyn accent. Her orange lipstick would be a little too thick, and she’d carry one of those bombproof organizer handbags. Of course, she’d be full of wonderfully useful advice, like exactly how far up are you supposed to shave your legs?
“The problem with you girls today is you don’t wear proper foundation garments. Go without a bra? You’re going to be KICKING them in a few years…”
Instead of going for tea at the Arcadian Room, she’d drag me off for salad and Singapore Slings at the Four Seasons.
“Nothing wrong with a little nip now and then, dearie. Puts colour in your cheeks. Don’t you read Cosmo?” And while we’re munching and slurping (“Drinking girl’s diet – gotta watch those hips”) she’d give me nonstop advice about how to get along in life.
“Forget Good Housekeeping – the way to a man’s heart is not tuna casseroles. But here’s how to make a really good martini...”
“Face it, dearie. After the age of 40, what every girl really needs is a good esthetician…”
“You’ve never been to Paris? That’s it – we’re going in April. I know this little place on the Rue la Fontaine that serves the best coquille…”
So I’d like to be here writing my column next month, but chances are I’ll be in Paris with my Fairy Godmother.
Of course, I recognize a Fairy Godmother isn’t for everyone. Perhaps the guys would prefer to have a Fairy Godfather…or then again, perhaps they wouldn’t…