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Last weekend, I accompanied my co-worker, whom I adopted as an "Auntie," to a performance of "Love, Loss and What I Wore" at the Broadway Playhouse at Water Tower Place. Nora and Delia Ephron, the playwrights, did a remarkable job bringing to life the diary-like stories based on the book by Ilene Beckerman.

The content of the scenes featured a wide range of items donned by women -- the bra, the prom dress, the shirt, the shoes, the boots, and the infamous purse -- to personalize stories of rape, body consciousness, cancer, marriage and divorce and mother/daughter relationships. Each story's focus was not the item, itself, worn by the author, but the related experience associated with it during that time of her life, and the indelible memory created for her.

"Love, Loss and What I Wore" is a refreshing reminder of the connection and shared experiences of women, regardless of ethnic background, religion, income or education. For 95 uninterrupted minutes, an audience of mostly women laughed, cried, clapped and cheered our experience of womanhood through monologues derived from life-long memories of a woman's clothing.

I believe every woman, in her own way, has a myriad of scintillating and heartrending tales to share with others in her life; or can choose to carry them to the grave with an internal smile that denotes, "That was a wild ride!"

 

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