Best Emmy Look

Pre-Emmys, 1990.  Nice shoulder pads

Thanks to hubby and his various network jobs, we've attended the Emmys more times than he'd like to remember.  I loved every second.  He felt otherwise.  I couldn't wait to get there.  He couldn't wait to get home.  Give me glam.  Give me celebs in sparkly gowns and loaner jewels.  Give me a dance floor, an after-party, a glass of champagne.  It takes so little to make me happy.  Hubby could've done without the pomp, the parking situation, the heat.  Give him football.  Give him basketball.  Give him a team of manly men running back and forth and smashing into each other till they bleed.
My first outing to the Shrine, the eldest was an only.  It was 1990.  I wore my mother's black dress, her earrings, her pearls.  I was a thirty-something, clocking in as a stylish sexagenerian.  Who cared?  I was going to the Emmys. Another year, I borrowed my mom's black silk pants suit.  My whole life, I borrowed her gorgeous clothes.  "Let's go shopping in my closet," she'd say, and I'd step inside a magical place.  It was so chic in there, so beautifully-tailored.  I loved to visit, but I never stayed long.  Always been a casual SJG.  T-shirts and jeans.  Except when it's dress-up time.  I'd give anything to get back into that closet, with Mom at my side, saying, "You'd look great in that," and "Try this one on."  But I emptied it in 1999.  Gave a lot away, kept a lot for myself.  Some of her outfits still hang in my closet today.  I used to wear them, but I don't anymore.  A gal can only pull off that shoulder pad look for so long.