Old Souls

I'm an old soul. I know, I've mentioned it before, but I've been putting some thought into it recently.

My friend Erica, she's a hippie. She loves the Beatles and Mick Jagger, and she's a free spirit like no one you've ever met. She lights candles and mellows out, and she finds that "anticulture" fabulous (and trust me, Erica loves things to be fabulous).

Evan, on the other hand, loves the seventies. If there's a paisley-printed shirt in the shopping vicinity, Evan will find it. If it happens to have a wide collar as well, he'll buy it on the spot. And no matter how much I beg, he'll wear it in public sometimes. That man would love nothing more than a starring role in Saturday Night Fever, and I would never stand between him and his disco dreams.

Me, though... I'm a different story. Sure, I have my hippie moments. I love a good peasant blouse from time to time, and you might even catch me with a "love knot" tied in my hair once in a blue moon. I listen to Janis Joplin sometimes, and I love a good Bob Dylan number. I can get down to KC and the Sunshine Band, and when I watch So You Think You Can Dance the disco numbers are some of my favorites. But neither of those eras have ever thrilled me, really.

I've been in love with Frank Sinatra since I was a little girl. I've known, though, for years that it would never work between the Chairman and me. He's a boozing gangster, and I'm a strong-willed broad. Sure, there'd be passion, but the fights would be epic. Instead, somewhere in my tweens, I set my sights on Cary Grant. He's intelligent and witty, and he's so charming that I can completely overlook his real name... I might even call him Archie when it's just the two of us. And that accent... it's not really British, not really American. Just pure, heart-melting magic.

While other little girls were buying Hanson albums and watching Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead (or whatever), my daddy was renting countless classics for me, like Pillow Talk and Singin' in the Rain. I firmly believed that Rock Hudson and Doris Day were meant for each other, and Casablanca changed my life forever. I would love to wear full skirts with waspy waists, or even high-waisted slacks like Kate Hepburn. I could listen to Jimmy Stewart talk all day long, and Audrey Hepburn's Holly Golightly was my inspiration to be feminine but eccentric.

Golden Hollywood: that's where I belong... schmoozing with Ava Gardner and Bogey, wearing pillbox hats and silk stockings, and taking black and white glamour shots.

Meanwhile, people say I'm an old soul because I love to cross-stitch, and I'd love to learn how to knit and quilt. I want to be a flighty domestic like Laura Petrie. My Pandora station is always set on Bing Crosby or Dean Martin, and Evan knows that to earn brownie points he can order take-out and rent movies for me like The Philadelphia Story or Sabrina.