Putting the Steel in Magnolias

I have had the immensely great fortune to reunite this past year with several of my very best friends from high school. We were the girls of the early 80s - defined by our big hair, heavy black eyeliner and penchant for clothing adorned with bows, alligators and polo riders. The geography of our existence was contained within a man-made beach to our south, the Shy Anne social club to our east, Saint Stanislaus Boys school to our west and some pretty scary rednecks to our north. Compared to the world today our world was very small and simple. As idyllic as our small town life would seem to be we were all itchin' to keep cruising past the Jeff Davis strip and on into the big sophisticated world we were certain lay beyond our little high school boundaries.

Listening to my girlfriends talk about themselves in High School makes me wonder if my perception of those days was clouded by a sticky web of Aquanet and waterproof Maybelline eyeliner. One of my favorite bloggers is one of these friends and in many of her posts she writes about how she was unpopular in high school. Funny, how I remember her as being very well-liked, pretty, funny, talented, and quite frankly she hung out with me so she must have been popular. (at least she was popular with me) Another friend tells her teenage daughters how unattractive and nerdy she was in high school while what I remember is a tall beautiful girl with a perfect smile, amazing alto voice and wicked sense of humor. The homecoming queen was also in our high school girlfriend club, she was considered the most popular and beautiful girl in town. Just a few weeks ago I found myself telling her that I wished she was more self confident.

I am not even sure what defined popular in 1983 all I know is that my best friends were the girls who turned heads from the petite little mormon spitfire to the tall cool drink of smokey sound. I was always the comic relief for these beautiful flowers. The loud chunky thighed girl who brought some earthiness to the beauty surrounding me. I am not bitter about being the dirt, because thanks to them I was able to meet some cute band guys and get a lot of free drinks.

My beautiful friends have grown into beautiful women that I admire greatly for the lives they lead. The road has held some giant switchbacks and steep drops for each of them since we toasted our last bottle of pink champale in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. Each one has faced her share of heartache and disappointment with a survivor's mentality. Where are the girls of 83 nearly 30 years later. The tall cool drink is one of the most fantastic mothers I have ever met, she has organized countless school and community fundraisers. She was recognized by her home state as volunteer of the year and walked step for step with her critically ill son until he regained his health. The tiny spitfire walked through fire to get her degree and has a beautiful talent with the written word and is a bastion of fashion. The homecoming queen has single handedly raised two amazing daughters and gutted homes for Katrina victims all while keeping the twinkle shining in her beautiful blue eyes. The pretty little beach sprite left the country and now fills the world with beautiful ukulele music and wonderful designs. The footprints left by each of these women reflect hope, love, friendship and has made my world and I believe the world in general a better and more beautiful place to live.

In general I don't write when I am sporting my rose colored glasses, I prefer the hard light from my cheaters but I watched Steel Magnolias and realized those fictional movie characters had nothin' on the real magnolias that I have the honor of calling friends. Our geographical boundaries have grown and our hair has lost alot of volume but our journeys have brought all of our lives together again and I rejoice. My pink champale is chilled - here's to you magnolias of mississippi may your steel petals continue to shine.