sexagenarian no!
In Silvia, all the "Girls of the facu"
"Berazategui: sexagenarian riddled by reason of theft in a supermarket." The owner slapped me in a very unpleasant one morning in 2009. How dare that bastard journalist talk of a young woman of sixty, who are celebrating today in Silvia and we meet all the girls in the "facu?
The reality is yes. We are becoming a sexagenarian. Where are
the minishort, the maxi and the platforms that made us feel immensely higher than they were? Must be filed with Bunuel, Polanski, Alain Delon and Peter Sellers, with Palito and La Viole or Neil Sedaka and Paul Anka in a third dimension somewhere. How far we seem to John Lennon and Vietnam, the man on the moon and MODART at Night or the Black Warrior and thickly, at night delivery ... Where walk the Italian girl who came to marry? Surely be of romance with Rolando Rivas and taking Yolanka Yogourt Silvia's mother had kept us in the fridge for those evenings of endless study in Vicente López.
Actually, I think all these characters are where they belong: in yesterday. We are here today, as young as Nacha but with less surgery, as elegant as Mirtha but not so corny and so passionate as Susana Monzón but ... no, Darin or Cork. We're joined presbyopia and a roll (better minimized, because all do not go alone), the cholesterol pill or pressure, the periodontist and a barber magic. Because it ... We dyed hair, gym or walk or do yoga, we look for such duds as to hide the waist, several hours we discussed the question of whether we put on the elegant or comfortable shoes to dance all night without being bothered by bunions, in our case very special and wonderful, next to the same partner we chose back in the seventies of last century.
We are a generation that sought to combine the classroom to the kitchen, with Woody Alen Burda, Mafalda with Suzie, the university and work with motherhood. We were really daring. And all that have passed forty years. Yes! We sixties. Many of the dads and moms who helped us so much when we were studying to become a person very dear to all are gone. Among us there are some who have suffered incredible pain and who else who least "the past." But here we are: after yard and inflation, times of survivors still sing of World Circulars 78 and Saturday Mancera, here we are in the fight against dengue and swine flu, cradling our first grandchild and, in some cases, educating teens still ... We
sixties but when we get together, when we talked on the phone, when we see ourselves and recognize when we realize that we are still standing, fighting and hopefully when we get the belt and paint our nails and left the house as if we expect others out there sixty years at least, as in the days when we sat on the lawn of City University for lunch, glancing at the boys that passed, we are not really women of sixty, but only with a beautiful ...
"Berazategui: sexagenarian riddled by reason of theft in a supermarket." The owner slapped me in a very unpleasant one morning in 2009. How dare that bastard journalist talk of a young woman of sixty, who are celebrating today in Silvia and we meet all the girls in the "facu?
The reality is yes. We are becoming a sexagenarian. Where are
the minishort, the maxi and the platforms that made us feel immensely higher than they were? Must be filed with Bunuel, Polanski, Alain Delon and Peter Sellers, with Palito and La Viole or Neil Sedaka and Paul Anka in a third dimension somewhere. How far we seem to John Lennon and Vietnam, the man on the moon and MODART at Night or the Black Warrior and thickly, at night delivery ... Where walk the Italian girl who came to marry? Surely be of romance with Rolando Rivas and taking Yolanka Yogourt Silvia's mother had kept us in the fridge for those evenings of endless study in Vicente López.
Actually, I think all these characters are where they belong: in yesterday. We are here today, as young as Nacha but with less surgery, as elegant as Mirtha but not so corny and so passionate as Susana Monzón but ... no, Darin or Cork. We're joined presbyopia and a roll (better minimized, because all do not go alone), the cholesterol pill or pressure, the periodontist and a barber magic. Because it ... We dyed hair, gym or walk or do yoga, we look for such duds as to hide the waist, several hours we discussed the question of whether we put on the elegant or comfortable shoes to dance all night without being bothered by bunions, in our case very special and wonderful, next to the same partner we chose back in the seventies of last century.
We are a generation that sought to combine the classroom to the kitchen, with Woody Alen Burda, Mafalda with Suzie, the university and work with motherhood. We were really daring. And all that have passed forty years. Yes! We sixties. Many of the dads and moms who helped us so much when we were studying to become a person very dear to all are gone. Among us there are some who have suffered incredible pain and who else who least "the past." But here we are: after yard and inflation, times of survivors still sing of World Circulars 78 and Saturday Mancera, here we are in the fight against dengue and swine flu, cradling our first grandchild and, in some cases, educating teens still ... We
sixties but when we get together, when we talked on the phone, when we see ourselves and recognize when we realize that we are still standing, fighting and hopefully when we get the belt and paint our nails and left the house as if we expect others out there sixty years at least, as in the days when we sat on the lawn of City University for lunch, glancing at the boys that passed, we are not really women of sixty, but only with a beautiful ...
Calendar Girls 
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