Thursday, November 11, 2010

What's A Lady To Do?



I recently created a new sidebar attraction on this here blog called “Emily Posted” after discovering a 1937 hardcover edition of Miss Emily’s rigid rulebook sitting on a grimy shelf in a local thrift store. When my eyes landed on the swirling lettering and the false promise of making me a real, live lady person I just had to dig into my crusty workout pants and cobble together the two dollars in change that would allow me to be the proud owner of the prissy playbook of proper society.

Today, as I searched the yellowed pages for a new blurb to share with everyone in hopes of creating new debutantes and dreamers, I stumbled onto this little chunk of chipper cheese. I found it more than fitting in the new land of blogs, bloggers and blabbing, a ruthless wordy world that we all have embraced like a crying child after a particularly frightening face plant.

TABUS OF CONVERSATIONS

The safest rule to remember is that conversation must never be taken out of the drawing-room. Vivid details of operations, ills or personal blemishes, descriptions concerning bed or bathroom, as well as appurtenances of the dressing-room, are not suitable topics, nor are personal jokes in good taste. It is very bad form to talk freely to acquaintances, or worse yet to strangers, about private concerns. Although the thoroughbred woman of charm has beautiful and sympathetic manners, she never rushes into intimacies.
Neighbors with whom she has been on the friendliest terms are received in the drawing-room of her mind as well as her house.

I don’t think Emily would have approved of any of this bloggity blogging, unless of course, she got a million hits a day and a book deal. Oh wait. She already had a book. Forget it. She’d be horrified and halfway to the moon.

3 comments:

GlamorousArmy said...

Oh, how far we've fallen from the land of properness. We are just one butt-scratch away from being socially excommunicated! LOL

Dotty said...

Would that be using our gloves fingers or bare fingers, Army?

Heidi Ferrer said...

Not to be too intimate, but where oh where is my fainting couch?