We both got 100

Talked to an old friend the other day as part of the usual Christmas nostalgia. She and I discovered life, love, short skirts, cigarettes and the odd pink lady together in high school. I was maid of honour at her first wedding, that's how close we once were. Hadn't talked to her for 10 years, since her mother died, and hadn't talked to her before that for a further 20, but it was as if no time had passed. Gabbing and laughing for an hour-and-a-half, we still hadn't scratched the surface of what we wanted to unearth and talk over. It seems the friends you make in your emotionally-formative years are the ones with whom you retain the strongest connections; she knows all my teenaged secrets.

She now lives in Laguna Beach, has a couple of famous family members and has become a successful painter. She was famous herself, but who knew she was a talented painter?! No one knew because I can still hear her mother telling her to stop being ridiculous, that painting wasn't a "real" job and to just try and find a successful man to marry.

My own mother used to say, "Nancy, it's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one." We both laughed as we talked about our mothers telling us something we had just done or said wasn't "ladylike". Or something else wasn't "respectable". Or our attitude about such-and-such was decidedly "unbecoming". Or, "nice girls don't do that". Can you imagine telling the daughters of today anything so remotely ridiculous? Or was it all very sensible? I'm not quite sure anymore.

My friend and I both tried to marry rich guys, but it didn't take. It didn't take because we were on the cusp of the feminist movement. We were there when it all began. We were the first generation of women not to take after our mothers. We were the ones tuning in to Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan and Germaine Greer. (Now I don't have much time for Gloria and her ilk; I much prefer people such as Camille Paglia.) Back then, still hedging our bets, we didn't go so far as to burn our bras, but we were determined to have our own careers, make our own money and set the course for our own lives. I remember swearing that I would never be in a position where I had to ask a husband for $2 for a pair of nylons. Never!

Well, I never have had to ask for $2 for anything. Happily, neither of us had the money to be "wives". Yes, it was a struggle, but it was so worth it. I would most certainly have lost my way, had I been able to quit my job and stay home. It may be great for some women, but not for my friend and me. I needed the affirmation and standing that society affords its members who pursue a career. Society still does not affirm "wife and mother" as credible choices. If you doubt that, just look at the pitiable money it pays child-care workers and cleaning ladies.

So, when a young woman educates me chapter and verse about women's lib or the feminist movement, I say, "Yes, I know all about that. We invented it." As I said to my friend on the phone, "Didn't we get a hundred in that?"