I don’t know why I’m inspired by women “of a certain age.” Tippi Hedren was in Minneapolis being celebrated for her accomplishments in the entertainment industry for Minnesota Proud, a company whose mission it is to celebrate noteworthy Minnesotans. I did her hair and Amy Goulet did her make up.

I couldn’t decide if I actually admire her because she was once a movie star, and I’m somewhat mesmerized by that entire era, or that she is just so lovely. Lovely and sexy and smart. Confident, and vulnerable, and a Minnesota girl. So is it that? I like that she’s one of us? I kept wondering why I was captivated. I still do.

Tippi Hedren

One of the staff commented, watching as I was cutting her hair, “Christopher is in his glory.” She was watching Tippi. The toss of the head, the bat of the eye, the point of the toe, the grace of the hand. And she was right. There is something remarkably pleasant being in the company of a lovely woman. A woman who knows how to be a lady and how to make you want to be a gentleman. Marilyn Carlson Nelson is that way. They command attention and respect by the art of being lovely.

So Robert and I went to her reception dinner. She had been up since early that morning, doing media all day, a presentation that lasted over two hours, then arrived at the event, well, still flawlessly beautiful. Lovely. Everything. Gown, earrings, hair, smile. They just don’t grow them like that anymore. And she was planted and raised right here. Minnesota.

But I realized as I watched her sitting with friends she’s known for over 70 years, that they all had a certain loveliness and charm. All from the class of ’48, they were slim, hair done, clothes attractive, and, lovely.

My mother has the same elegance, and she, well we, are from generations of plain old farm folks. Bean walking, corn detassling, stock car race watching country folks. Judy Garland, Loni Anderson, Marion Ross, Winona Ryder, Arelene Dahl, Cheryl Tiegs, Jane Russell and Ann Sothern are all Minnesota girls. And all have a certain, poise. Something that comes from within.

My Mom, Joann Hopkins
It’s a dying art I feel. And one whose torch I will carry. As long as we bombarded with the Brittney’s and Lindsay’s and the Paris’s as examples of who we have become, I will continue to celebrate the women who give us pride in who we once were. And whom we can aspire to become again.

Ann Sothern

Winona Ryder