A Life in New Year’s Eves: Sparkles--and Fizzles

Last year, when I toasted in the New Year, it was around 10 p.m., and I was wearing a flowered flannel granny nightgown. It wasn’t just because I was a grandmother. I was tired. And it’s cold in New Jersey in December.

New Year’s used to be different. I remember when planning what I was going to wear on New Year’s Eve took up all of December, and most of November. New Year’s was the time to sparkle, twinkle and shine. New Year’s was rhinestones!

New Year’s Eve, 1948: I was 13. I had a blind date. I’d hoped for someone who looked like Gene Kelly in “Cover Girl.” When my date showed up, he was no cover Ilene Beckerman is the author of “Love, Loss and What I Wore” and “What I Did for Love.”

boy. I didn’t care. It was a date! I was no Rita Hayworth, anyway. My outfit: curls, courtesy of Toni Home Permanent, pink Angora sweater, circle skirt with two crinolines, elasticized belt, velvet choker with rhinestone heart.

New Year’s Eve, 1950: My grandmother and I were at the Kenmore Hotel on 11th Street in Miami Beach. We feasted on exotic food (kosher); marveled at Dinah Shore’s voice and wardrobe, and laughed at Morey Amsterdam on

the black-and-white TV in the lobby. But if we had only known about South Beach then! If we had only known about supermodels! Would we have bought real estate! My outfit: bright red. I had sun poisoning.

New Year’s Eve, 1952: Starlight Roof of the Waldorf Astoria. I remember everything--except who my date was. Guy Lombardo, silver and white paper hats, horns, snappers, confetti. A daiquiri in one hand, a Parliament cigarette in the other. I felt like Patricia Neal in “The Fountainhead.” My outfit: the “New Look,” with stiletto heels. (Have you ever worn stilettos? Oh, the things we do for love. Especially women!). And lots and lots of rhinestone bangle bracelets.

New Year’s Eve, 1955: I had married my college professor and it was our first New Year’s together, My outfit: He picked it out--a Chinese brocade dress. Unfortunately, at midnight, the person he picked out to kiss wasn’t me but the hostess. I don’t remember what she was wearing.

New Year’s Eve, 1961: Mother of two, married to somebody else (can you blame me?). I watched the ball drop at Times Square while I sterilized baby bottles. My

outfit: huck-a-poo shirt, culottes with stains, floppy pink rabbit slippers. But I did have rhinestone studs in my ears.

New Years Eve, 1969: My neighbor’s 12-year-old baby-sat for my five kids. We were only going next door. Everybody at the party had young children so nobody ever went anywhere. The women decided to dress up. I wanted to look like Cher--without Sonny. My outfit: When I realized I wasn’t built like Twiggy anymore, and couldn’t fit into anything dressy in my closet, I bought a tent dress (everyone thought I was pregnant again). My outfit wasn’t a total loss--I found flats with rhinestone buckles!

New Year’s Eve, 1977: At my neighbors’, the night they announced their separation. My outfit: tie, floppy hat, man’s shirt, baggy pants. Costume party? No. I’d just seen “Annie Hall.”

New Year’s Eve, 1980: Empty nesters. We went to the movies and saw Goldie Hawn in “Private Benjamin.” She looked fabulous. I didn’t. The movie ended at midnight. When they played “Auld Lang Syne,” my husband and I didn’t kiss. My outfit: I was wearing sweats.

New Year’s Eve, 1982: The year we got divorced. I went to bed early.

New Year’s Eve, 1989: In love again. We felt young and foolish. We looked old and we were foolish. We wanted to see the ball drop at 42nd Street and Broadway. We almost got trampled in the subway at 42nd Street. But we did see the ball drop. And we did kiss at midnight. My outfit: I can’t remember. It didn’t matter.

New Year’s Eve, 1990: We were going to dinner with another couple at a trendy New York restaurant. The price gave me heartache. The food gave me heartburn. Just before midnight, he slipped a small diamond band on my pinky. It was the only time I didn’t long for rhinestones. My outfit: slinky black dress from Loehmann’s Back Room. Don’t know the designer. The label was cut off.

New Year’s Eve, 1994: One of my happiest. I had made a New Year’s resolution I could really stick to: To give up dieting. My outfit: loose.

New Year’s Eve, 1997: We’re going to baby-sit for the grandchildren this year. They want to dress up. They’ll be at the right place! I’ve already planned their wardrobe.

The outfits: Alexandra, 6: Turquoise tulle dress, cloche hat with pink feather.

Olivia, 4: Red lace teddy, sunglasses.

Chloe, 3: Gold lame wrap blouse, pillbox hat with veil.

The baby: Red velvet booties, with ermine trim (faux ermine, of course).

No rhinestones necessary. My granddaughters sparkle naturally.