Fresh stuff, best-of-the-web for midlife women

Great writing by women you'd like to have a drink with.

Sixty and counting: The Second Sex to Foxy Brown

We've been a fan of Pam Grier, aka Foxy Brown, since the 1970's, and were happy to see her launch a second act in the Quentin Tarrantino movie Jackie Brown, (based on the Elmore Leonard book Rum Punch, and we love Elmore too.) She's all the things we want to be in our fifties; tough, cool, and knows how to handle a piece.

She's got a memoir out and it looks pretty good.  Here's a cut from the Times story:

Why tell her story now? “I’ve had mentors who know of my legacy and family history, along with my career in surviving and falling, crawling and learning, and being very, very open and curious,” she explained. “I said, ‘If I do it, I want it to be a work of lessons learned that I can share with others.’ You seek help. You seek friendship.”

And there's a new translation of The Second Sex out; can you believe the Simone de Beauvoir book is, like Pam Grier, 60 freaking years old? Where does the time go?

But never mind that. This post at NYTimes.com takes a look at author Simone de Beauvoir's style, which, the older we get, the better we like. Plus we're beginning to understand why a babe like her would be with a really trolly-looking little guy.

Viva la France. From the Times:

Was Simone de Beauvoir beautiful? Francine Gray once described her look as “bleakly emancipated,” which sounds something like being ugly while wearing comfortable shoes. “De Beauvoir was remarkably unconcerned about her appearance and spent little time bothering with it,” says Hazel Rowley, the author of “Tête à Tête: Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre.” “She was a tough, athletic woman. She used to tramp through the hills around Marseilles wearing espadrilles and old, tattered clothing.” Insouciant is too dainty a word — she just didn’t care.

Not if her overcoat was dumpy and too big, not if her native prints were too loud, not if her hair was swept up into a crazy-colored turban long after World War II ended and Parisian women could get their hair done again.

                                                           --B.J. Roche