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Maybe it was yesterday’s post about boobs on flipflopsandfabs or maybe it’s watching Oprah’s behind the scenes of the 25-year season or maybe it’s now that I’m of a certain age, but I’m beginning to really miss my grandmother aka “the bra lady.” How do I describe this independent woman who had such an influence on my life?

Waking up at her house was a treat - music would be playing on the stereo, and her cheery voice would greet me, followed by a special breakfast surprise. I’d take home stories of some fabulous new food that she had discovered at the grocery store. Mind you, this woman did not cook - not really - but there were always food adventures.

I especially remember those lunches at Sizzler after riding shotgun all over southern California while she made her round of appointments for bra fittings and/or deliveries. On a special occasion, we’d stop in at the Sculptress Headquarters in the City of Industry to pick up the bras. At one time, she expanded into a line of makeup, cleansers, and fashion. Yep, my cousin and I were the models for these “fashion shows.” She was quite the businesswoman back in the day.

I remember seeing something on Facebook about “doesn’t anybody want to be called grandma anymore” and I couldn’t help but think how this grandmother was not called grandma even back in the 1950s - she was “Nany” - I think it was how “grandma” came out of the first grandchild’s mouth and the rest of us were stuck calling her that.

I was never a fan of that, and even now I refer to her as “Margaret.” She is probably okay with that from her perch in heaven because I know she loved not being called “grandma.” But back then she believed that “children should be seen and not heard” so I doubt she would have allowed calling her by her first name back then.

I’m probably close to the age she was when some of us granddaughters were oohing and aahing over Jane Russell’s Playtex commercials, but one day my grandmother sat up straight, thrust out her chest and announced, “Jane Russsell doesn’t have anything on me.” We never looked at her quite the same after that. Naturally, we still giggled over her being the bra lady. One boy cousin used to make prank phone calls and say, “Your 55GG bras are on their way.” lol!

But when we were chatting about the latest dance craze, she got up and did the Charleston for us. She was suddenly the coolest grandmother ever. I know now that she wasn’t that old. :)

Living in L.A. and knowing a song writer and perhaps a movie star or two, she dropped names like “Ronnie” as in Ronnie Reagan - like he was the kid next door, who she didn’t quite approve of. lol! You certainly knew her opinions on things. Hmmm.... wonder where I’ve seen that before...

In a time where it wasn’t quite ladylike to drink alcohol, she’d pop open a beer now and then, and that usually caused a giggle among the grandkids, maybe because she was so dedicated to her religion, that was often all she talked about. But during a TV sporting event when we picked up some beer at the grocery store and the clerk said, “Getting some beer for the guys?” she snapped back with, “The women in our family are the ones who drink.” You just never knew what would come out of her mouth.

Yes, the older I get and the more I find my own voice, the more I miss Margaret. And then I wish I had grandchildren so that somebody would have to listen to my stories... the cats do their best but it’s not quite the same. :)

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