tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232445742011-12-14T18:53:06.200-08:00A place for women to gather and talk about what it means to be 30something.Normahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01781421258930950742noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23244574.post-1141668844133162592006-03-06T10:11:00.000-08:002006-03-06T10:14:04.143-08:00<p>I didn't watch the Academy Awards last night, but I did see some coverage of the "big event" this morning. I'm no fan of Joan Rivers or her daughter or their ongoing fashion commentary, but I did hear them say something interesting about the Oscars. For the most part, they thought this year's understated outfits were beautiful and appropriate. (That's neither here nor there, unless you are into that high-fashion sort of thing.) But they also gave kudos to Jennifer Lopez and Salma Hayek. Why? Because everyone else was TOO THIN. </p><p>A "friend" of a "friend" blogged <a href="http://worstoneofall.blogspot.com/2006/02/naked-ladies.html">this</a> last week. And she's spot on. Even we, intelligent and beautiful women in our own right, can fall prey to the media version of what we should look like. Why isn't there a bigger backlash against this backward and idealistic vision of the female form? Sick, it is.</p><p>I hope the Rivers' comment will get some mileage among the Hollywood elite. I doubt it will make any difference, but a girl can hope. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23244574-114166884413316259?l=30srock.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Normahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01781421258930950742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23244574.post-1141251724591952572006-03-01T19:16:00.000-08:002006-03-01T16:57:53.000-08:00As my friends and I have reached our 30s...we've found ourselves having a lot of age-related discussions and questions that deserve answers. We need a broader base of knowledge, so that's why I decided to start this blog.<br /><br />I think we're all conditioned a little bit to think of 30 as the "end" of something, rather than the beginning. As I was approaching my 30th birthday, a co-worker told me she loved her 30s. That was the decade in which she met her husband and had her children. I actually stopped for a moment and considered that. I decided it made me feel differently about the whole thing, and I celebrated by birthday with wild abandonment instead of trepidation.<br /><br />I'd like to see all kinds of things here, written by all kinds of women. Everything from identity to fashion to spirituality. All women are welcome to contribute. Email me if you want your words and experiences included.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23244574-114125172459195257?l=30srock.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Normahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01781421258930950742noreply@blogger.com3