Loving Your Inner Velma

| July / August 2004

How to cope with having a gorgeous best friend

Left to my own devices, I have the innate fashion sense of a 1972 elementary school librarian. You know, the one who wore beige spongy-soled shoes, a twill blue just-below-the-knee skirt, and a brown pilled sweater. She lived at school -- we all knew this to be true -- and the most eye-catching object ever to grace her person was the pearl and rhinestone brooch her mother left her.

This look was destined to be my fate, but thanks to Selena McCall's early intervention, I was saved. Selena was my best friend in college in the early '80s, those unenlightened days when I dressed to attract men but failed miserably. I couldn't have attracted an escaped convict who'd spent the last 15 years looking at nothing but a hairy, check-kiting, breaking & entering felon named Pork. Though it seems funny to me now, at the time it bothered me.