Oh dear Miss Wendy,

Why do drag queens look so much better than real women?

--------Jealous


Dear Jelly,

That because they work it, sweetie. As dear darling Dolly Parton said in Steel Magnolias, "There's no such thing as natural beauty."

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Dear Miss Wendy,

I am new to New York, having recently tranplanted from Charleston, and I have a question. I was raised to believe that a lady or gentleman can always let the world know what social class they belong to by the clothes they wear and the manner in which they deport themselves. But in New York, I am completely at a loss. Subtle signals like good pearl earrings and gently worn natural fabrics have no effect whatsover, people simply assume that you are some academic from New Jersey. And as for what passes for upper class, most of it is simply appalling ( i.e Paris Hilton). I would like to meet a suitable (read monied) gentleman in New York but have no clue what I should wear.

Sincerely yours,
Perplexed

Dear Perp,

I can sympathize with your confusion but you have obviously been hanging in the wrong neighborhoods, especially for a transplanted Charlestonian. This is a very simple problem to solve. Go to the corner of 68th and Madison and find the nearest sidewalk cafe. Sit down, open a note book and take notes.

Everyone you see walking by will be stupendously boring, but will bore you with impeccable taste. You could do the same thing in Greenwich, Connecicut, but that would involve a very boring train ride and you might fall asleep and wake up in New Haven..

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Dear Miss Wendy,

What do you think about mixed religion weddings. People are becoming so casual about these things these days.

Sunday School Sue

Dear Sue,

The only time religion seems to cause a problem in today's society is when people are about to be married. Parents who have not observed any religion whatsoever for the last 25 or so years, suddenly remember that they are Hare Krishnas or Baptists or something. And there it is, "But dear, how are you going to raise the children?"My advice to any prospective bride or groom is this: when your parents or your parents-in-law-to-be approach you with an index card (a cue card upon which they have scrawled the name of the family religion) and a questioning look on their faces, simply be enigmatic like dear Mona Lisa. Or you can murmur something while you cough or suddenly have to run to the bathroom etc. etc.

Because the truth of the matter is, any young parent who can remember the name of the sect their parents attended once or twice ten years ago, can freely raise their children in that religion by simply managing to haul their behind out of bed on Sunday mornings. Raising children drains the good intentions out of all but the most energetic souls, so you can pretty much count on the other parent deciding to snore away the morning.

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