If you’re complimented on a dress, how do you respond? “Oh, this old thing?” We can make others feel silly for their seemingly questionable taste. Others think a compliment must be automatically volleyed back to the giver, something like a shuttlecock in badminton. “You look great!” gushes one girl. “You too!” squeals the other. It sounds like a scene in a slasher movie, right before the prom queen meets a grisly fate.

And a Savvy Girl takes a moment to compliment an older lady. These women often take such care before they step into the world, their hair coiffed just so, a carefully chosen brooch setting off a smart blouse. Yet often, no one really notices. Go ahead: tell them! I was once enjoying a lazy read in a London park, where I saw two people greet each other. The man presented the lady with a rose; that was interesting, as she had a suitcase and seemed to be jetting off somewhere. Soon after, they parted. After her friend left, the lady approached a well-dressed older woman at a nearby bench. “I noticed you looking so elegant,” she said. “It made me want to give you this.” The older lady beamed. The flower could easily have been discarded, but the first woman made it count for someone else.

How do you handle compliments?

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In it, I found a stack of old ID cards. As I spread them out, they evoked my journey so far. A sample:

LIBRARY CARD, circa high-school: fresh-faced, I gaze out, all straightened teeth and sparkly eyes. Pity about the perm. Yes. A perm. Shaped to my head (a moment’s silence, to reflect on just how bad that is). The card evokes water-stained taffeta dresses, an after-school job in menswear (no lovely men, just tubby grandpas needing underwear from their knees to their armpits) and holding Peter’s hand in Economics Camp.

STUDENT CARD: ca. first year college: getting lost the first day and asking directions—while standing under a sign post. Discovering that the Commerce boys on level five of the library were far cuter than the Philosophy students downstairs (and far less self-absorbed).

MEDIA PASS: ca.first job. Press pass. Hilarious job on real estate show. Saved by job in news. Terrified by news director, who taught me a lot once I stopped quaking and ducking into side rooms whenever I saw him thunder down the hallway.

EASTERN EUROPE NEWS AGENCY VISA: ca. mid-career.  Marched off for an HIV test on first day to a clinic with sticky floors. Insisted the sour old matron unpack a fresh needle in front of me. Everything in the cafeteria was suspended in aspic jelly. Wonderful adventure.

What do your ID cards say?

The post The women who live in my wallet appeared first on Alicia Young.

I call it The Case of the Curious Stats (as in statistics).  Like most sites, this website allows us to monitor general data—which countries are represented, which pages are most viewed etc. I was curious to see a recent spike in hits from Spain. Lovely, I thought…someone had picked up my blog in Barcelona or Madrid?  The numbers continued to grow. Within a few days I was tossing my hair in that slightly-self-satisfied way, worthy of a shampoo commercial (I drew the line at winking).

Then I discovered: there is another Alicia Young. In Spain. Known in rarefied circles as either the Boob Blogger or the Boob-A-Day Girl.

Yes, she posts a picture of her cleavage every day. Every. Single. Day.

Technically, then, it should be Boobs-A-Day, plural. At least they could get the grammar right. And depending on the source, she’s drawn  between 2.5 and 3.3 million hits in a just a few months… 170,000 in one day alone. She shows only the assets in question, not her face.

I laugh to think  my high school boyfriend will discover her site and think I suddenly became more liberal—and sprouted a generous cleavage. I was a late bloomer. The poor guy – when we made out, he’d search my barren landscape for any sign of peaks, and come up fruitless – despite a compass and a flashlight. Still, points for enthusiasm. And perseverance.

Have you ever been mistaken for someone else?

NB: My apologies if you have received this update more than once. My learning curve continues.

The post Mistaken Identity: I am *not* the Boob Blogger. appeared first on Alicia Young.