The Dressing Room of the Baby Boomers

by Thea Schiller

World War II babies born in mid-forties when men came home from the Front,
Hawaii, Europe and Papa New Guinea.
Families that could, left the Bronx for Long Island, Westchester, New Jersey
Women that could, wore Satin and Silks dining out with husbands
But small preteen baby boomer girls dreamt of wearing peasant dresses
And having artists draw hearts and flowers on their cheeks.

Too soon the girls became old enough to switch their mother’s
high-heeled suede’s to earth shoes.
Too soon they found college and natural animal poses
on dorm beds — the dresser and chairs piled high to lock doors.

Too soon they grew up to work in schools, hospitals, businesses, and car plants or became professors of literature or Science.
Too soon they married interns, lawyers, doctors, plumbers, and electricians.
Too soon one, two, or three embryos became humans.
Too soon some died in Vietnam.

Oceans of divorce came like a tsunami.
Women with settlements, still alive, swam to Bloomingdale’s to splurge on retro vintage to impress the men at single’s dances in New York City.

What about the happily married widows of 25 years who found themselves locked
inside the women’s dressing rooms on the Upper West Side of Manhattan?
Pining and yearning for love, did they sing, “You Make Me Feel So Young, You Make Me Feel Like Spring Has Sprung?”

Slim pickings — which peasant Frock with embroidered flowers on the neckline, or lacey dresses and pearls are kept or discarded?
Be careful and good is the mantra, and then you might find.

Inside the Baby Boomer’s dressing room the free men
lie supine amongst the heap of clothes on the floor.