Calendar Girls and Ladies who lunch

Gorgeous, glistening, Autumn day – I love October! English landscape whizzing past, dressed in dazzling colours of Indian summer. 

I am riding ‘shot gun,’ with our W.I. President, en route to Claverdon for the Myton Hospice Ladies Lunch at Ardencote Manor.

Upon our arrival, my fearless leader makes a bee-line for a tall, blonde woman at the bar. It was Tricia Stewart, the leader of the original Calendar Girls. (Helen Mirren played her in the movie.)

I was thrilled to have an opportunity to meet her, she was stunning! And she was just as ballsy and effervescent standing before me, as she had been portrayed in the film. 

After we were introduced (and I’d taken a ton of photos), over a “welcome drink,” we chatted about W.I., New York City and writing.

She has written a memoir of her Calendar Girl experience, and had a copy of the Japanese edition with her. (“I have no idea what it says,” she beamed brightly, “but the pictures are the same, so I guess that's alright!”)

She shared with me the hilarious story of a friend of hers, a struggling, New York writer (aren’t we all?) who, in act of sheer desperation and utter genius, successfully pretended to be her own agent! 

Tricia’s friend used a false name, a fake voice and 'do-it-yourself' letterhead, and managed not only to get her feet through numerous, previously locked “we-only-deal-with-agents” doors, but actually she got her manuscript onto the right desks, and negotiated a very nice book deal for her top 'client': herself!

What a hoot! Happy, happy, joy, joy, to think of all those silly publishers getting duped by a super savvy writer!! Ha! And, quite frankly, they all deserve it.

Our conversation was interrupted by one the formally dressed Ardencote Servers inviting us to take our seats in the grand dining room. 

The tables were gorgeously decorated with autumn flowers, brightly polished silver, menu cards with Tricia’s picture on the front, and a small collection box for donations to the Hospice charity.

As I took my place, I glanced about the room, and I was struck by the realization that in that instant, I had become my mother... 

Around me was a beautiful sea of fashionably coiffed graying heads; richly clad in designer bouclé and pearls.

I was undoubtedly one of the few women in the room under the age of 60, and yet, I felt at home, and a strong sense of kinship. 

I recalled the times when my mother would allow me to skip school for the afternoon, to attend one of these same sort of lovely, special, charity, social lunches with her, in aid of the League of Women Voters, UNICEF, or the March of Dimes, to name but a few.

It may be an ocean apart from the tiny world outside Little Rock that I grew up in, but clearly  not so different in some ways. 

For, here I am now, bazillion miles and dozens of years away from that time and place, continuing that great feminine tradition of women who care, and hope in some little way to make a difference.

(In this moment, I miss my mother incredibly, and she seems, as she is, an ocean away. I wish that she could have been there beside me.)

Over the elegant servings of lamb shanks and mustard mash, Jo, the delightful octogenarian seated to my right, tells me of the joy she feels giving her time as a regular volunteer at the Myton Hospice.

Jo’s body is slowly giving way to time, yet her spirit as quick, lively and fresh as a teenager’s. 

“There is so much to give, and the smallest thing can make a big difference,” she tells me, her crystal, blue eyes sparkling.

One person can make a difference. 

And this sentiment was at the heart of Tricia Stewart’s dynamic, after-lunch speech.

Tricia electrifies the room with her hilarious tales of how the Calendar Girls came to be the global phenomenon that they are.

Humble and humorous, in true-blue, Yorkshire fashion, Tricia regaled us with the highs and lows of her Calendar Girl experiences:

“Helen Mirren cut her teeth playing me, then went on to play The Queen!”- Tricia Stewart

I left that afternoon feeling energized and inspired.

 At the heart of Tricia’s message was the indefatigable power of love, and the power of one.        

Calendar Girls

Calendar Girls - video clip from You Tube 

Jam and Jerusalem

A few weeks ago, I was invited to join the Barford W.I. (Women’s Institute). And last night, I did just that! At a cost of a mere £29 (@ $60)—and two jars of homemade preserves—I aligned myself, for the next 14 months at least, with what has always been to my mind the quintessential establishment of British womanhood.

The Womens Institute (www.womens-institute.co.uk) was first formed in 1915. At that time, it was established with two objectives: “to revitalise rural communities and to encourage women to become more involved in producing food during the First World War.” Since that time, the W.I.’s aims have broadened to “play a unique role in providing women with educational opportunities and the chance to build new skills, to take part in a wide variety of activities and to campaign on issues that matter to them and their communities.” The W.I. is the largest women’s organization in the United Kingdom with 205,000 members. Plus one!

Of course, to the rest of world England’s W.I. was immortalized in the popular imagination by the film Calendar Girls, starring Julie Walters and Helen Mirren, as two best friends, leading a heady brigade of plucky women determined to give cancer a run for its money. Central to the plot is their controversial—and highly successful—idea of producing a calendar with teasingly provocative portraits of their local W.I. membership.

What impressed me most about the women in that film was their incredible sense of community, and their willingness to tough it out together. The cause that spurred them on was immediate and personal - one woman’s loss became the community’s crusade. I remember vividly how I cried at the end of that film, when the Calendar Girls’ ‘representatives’ returned to their tiny village after a somewhat fraught trip to L.A. They arrive back home, as the monthly W.I. meeting is about to start, they rush into the hall shyly, but are enthusiastically gathered into the fold, just in time to join in the singing of “Jerusalem.”

Unlike my mother, two sisters, and even my sister-in-law, who are all proud sorority sisters, I never had the good fortunate to join a sorority in my undergraduate or post-graduate days. And, truth be told, from what I could see, and I confess my experience is limited, the sorority scene that I have witnessed over the years had more to do with partying with frat boys and being “the pretty clique,” than supporting or engendering community. So, perhaps, at this stage in my life, I am searching for sisterhood, beyond the standard bonds of family or friendship - an “incorporated sisterhood,” or sisterhood with a mission statement.

It’s about community. And I above all else, I want to be a part of my little community here in Barford, and not just live and breathe in Barford. As I learned in my wonderful, wonderful, blessed community at St. Luke’s back in New York, the only way one can feel and truly be a part of a community is to get involved. So, I have rolled up my sleeves and joined the Barford W.I.

When I told my dear friend and mentor, Sue (a.k.a. “Greatest Directing Teacher on Earth”), that I’d joined the W.I. she chuckled and said, “How English of you. You must be settling in well.” Indeed, I think I am. However, I don’t intend to just settle into my new status as a Barford W.I. member. (I don’t need to state that I was the youngest person in the room last night, do I?) I refuse to be merely a casual observer, I intend to get involved.

The Barford W.I. is a group of terrific, dynamic, engaged and engaging women. I think I shall come away from this experience with far more than just two jars of green tomato chutney and blackberry jam.

Post Script -

Shall hopeful see a few of my new “W.I. chums” at the “Harvest Supper” tonight at St. Peter’s Church.  The D.E.B. just phoned, he has dutifully completed a short Sainsbury’s run for us. He had to also gather a few things for us to take along to the Harvest Supper tonight. The Harvest Supper is a fundraiser for St. Peter’s Clock and Bell that both need repair, and a means of gathering goods for the winter for those in need.