One of the rewards of having arrived at a certain age is that I can actually remember people looking like this. When I was a mere child, most of the ladies I was exposed to had nailed this look down flat. Of course, as the perceptive Muscato points out, “Louise Wallis” sounds an awful lot like an anagram of “Walter A. Lewis,” and it seems possible that Louise is, in fact, Walter. Give either of us a chance and we will unerringly head for the trannny connection.
Still, the cats-eyes, the slightly wilted bouffant, the insipidly understated accessories; all of it could have been any of my aunts, Sunday school teachers, or cashiers at the Piggly Wiggly that I knew so well. To the best of my knowledge, none of them could jam on an organ and a piano simultaneously, but then, I led a rather sheltered life.