Baddiewinkle's Guide to Life Read online

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Dedication

  A Call to Action

  This book is dedicated to YOU. Yes, you.

  I’m giving this baby to you because I know what it’s like to feel stuck. I know what it means to suffer loss and heartache, to experience death, drama, a midlife crisis, and, hell, to dread getting older. I also know what it’s like to sing and dance, and live life in full color.

  Sometimes we need a friend to pull us out of the valley we’ve cast ourselves into. This book is my call to action for you to start living!

  Push aside your roadblocks, mental or otherwise. I don’t care if you’re twenty or thirty or ninety years old; today is the day that you change your outlook on life.

  To my fans: Thank you for lighting up my life. Keep doing you.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Baddie to the Bone: An Introduction

  1. Can’t Stop. Won’t Stop

  2. Fashion Forward

  3. Pray for the Basics

  4. Raindrops on Roses

  5. The Anatomy of an Outfit

  6. It’s Baddie, Bitch!

  7. The High Life

  8. Bad Advice

  9. Rave On!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  BADDIE TO THE BONE:

  AN INTRODUCTION

  I have a confession:

  Baddiewinkle isn’t my real name.

  It’s Helen Van Winkle,

  but you can call me Baddie.

  Everybody else does, even the haters.

  Hi, haters! Miss me?

  Photograph from family archive.

  Don’t get fooled by this smile. I may look innocent but, deep down, I’m a natural-born rebel.

  I CAME TO MY NEW NAME AND PERSONA LATE IN LIFE BUT, DEEP DOWN, I’VE ALWAYS BEEN BADDIEWINKLE.

  From the time I was a young girl, growing up during the Depression in West Liberty, Kentucky, I’ve been a rebel, a rule-breaker, and I’ve broken plenty of hearts, too. The best Kentucky has on offer—besides me, naturally—is bluegrass, pretty women, and fast horses though people often get the last two confused. Don’t get mixed up with a Kentucky woman! I’ve been stealing your man since 1928, and don’t you forget it.

  People often ask me what it was like to live through the Depression. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard. I don’t have one personal belonging from my childhood—no doll, no toy, no blanket. We didn’t hold onto things. People were important: family, friends. There wasn’t money for anything else. I had six siblings, and my brothers and sisters and I would entertain ourselves with ghost stories. We rode down steep hills on old wooden wagons and, during the winter, careened down those same hills on sleds, our fingers and toes numb from the cold. These memories are better than any toy I could have held onto.

  I wanted to be a movie star, someone beautiful and exotic-looking like Hedy Lamarr. Can you imagine the kind of clothes she must have had? I dreamt about it, and took to swapping out my ugly, brown school stockings with colorful socks. I kept the socks a secret as best as I could, and changed into them after I left my mother’s watchful eye. A classmate of mine wanted to be Rita Hayworth, so we hit it off. Today, I have a closet brimming with out-of-this-world clothing. If it’s hot, it’s mine: pink, see-through, confetti-bombed with glitter, tiedye prints, the more outrageous and colorful, the better. My favorite designers are visionaries and hellions, people who aren’t afraid to think big: DI$COUNT UNIVERSE, The Ragged Priest, UNIF, Gucci, and Y.R.U.

  Photograph from family archive.

  This image is photographic evidence that I was born strong-willed and stubborn.

  Photograph from family archive.

  While I grew into myself as a teenager (seen here with my soon-to-be husband Earl), I never abandoned my sense of mischief.

  Photograph from family archive.

  Footloose, fancy-free, and forty years young.

  If you think Baddiewinkle is a character I’m playing and the clothes are just dress up, well, darlin’, you’re wrong. The truth is much deeper than that. Baddiewinkle is the loudest and most colorful public expression of who I am. It’s not an act. It just took me a few years to own up to who I am.

  After finishing high school, I took a business course and worked as a maintenance clerk in a parts factory, ordering gauges for machines for twenty-eight years. Can you imagine me doing that? Sometimes I can’t. The company was Dresser Industries, and I ran the inventory from top to bottom.

  Before working at Dresser, I had a two-year fling with Dependable Auto Supply. While that job was brief, it brought long-lasting stability to my life—in the form of my wonderful and loving husband, Earl.

  You could say that job supplied me with a dependable man. Earl owned an auto body shop where I worked while we raised our family. For our first date, Earl and I went rollerskating. He was a hopeless romantic. Besides rollerskating, we loved to dance, and, lucky for us, Kentucky is the place for dancing.

  Not many people know that Hazard, Kentucky, is home to the Black Gold Festival. Black Gold, of course, stands for coal mining with a capital C and a capital M. Hazard was the heart of the Appalachian Coal Fields. Everyone knew somebody in coal—my father himself was a coal miner. Once a year, I got dolled up in my best crinoline and dress shoes, and Earl and I took the Black Gold Festival dance floor by storm. I’ve always loved to move—he and I, we square-danced our way around this fine country.

  AFTER I LOST EARL AND THEN MY SON, I LOST A PART OF MYSELF.

  I’m telling you the God’s truth when I say I would have died for my son instead of having him die. I could have stayed down, depressed and stricken with grief, but that’s not my way. I’m a natural-born fighter. I wasn’t made to go through this life wasting it and being basic, hiding from the world. I’m more than that. I’m a Bad Ass Bitch. I knew, too, that my son and husband would want me to live life to the fullest. I got tired of grieving so at the age of eighty-five I became…

  Photograph by Zoe McConnell for Missguided.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  I’ve always been a spitfire. I drove my family crazy—teachers, too. I once jumped out a window in the middle of class to play hooky. If there was something I wanted to do, I did it. Today, as a woman, a mother, a grandmother, hell, even a great-grandmother, I hold to that mind-set. If you don’t like the way I play, I’ll tell you what I swore to my mother and father:

  The funny thing is, the one piece of advice I return to again and again is something my mother told me, which she undoubtedly knew spurred some of my rebellion. She said, “Always be true to yourself.” I’m no one if not myself. Baddiewinkle is the most vivid, whole-hearted expression of who I am. While I spent several years ordering and tracking down parts for cars, my family and friends are the most important pieces to my heart.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Some people do Botox, others drink vitamin elixirs. Me? I’m old-school: sunshine, rainbows, and peace, baby. Love keeps you young.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  We are only on this planet once

  —at least, as far as we know. You get one ride. That’s it. How are you going to spend your one wild, precious life? While you stand there hemming and hawing, I’m gonna catch a plane. I got places to go. I got people to see. I’m not standing still. Life is sweeping up to meet me. If you’re ready, I can take you with me.

  Ready? Set?

  Go.

  1

  CAN’T STOP. WON’T STOP.

  Photograp
h by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  When I turned eighty-seven, I wasn’t supposed to wear fuchsia-pink lipstick.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Who said anything about being age-appropriate?

  When I was a teenager, I was told not to wear anything silly. When I turned forty, people said, “stop wearing short skirts” and “no more sexy bathing suits” even though I had the legs (and the bod) to rock them.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Which came first: Derek Zoolander’s “Blue Steel” pose or the duck face? Does it matter since I’ve perfected it?

  Photograph by Marina Fini.

  I have seen the future and it's as beautiful as a butterfly.

  In every instance and at every age, I was told to act more age-appropriate. Who said beauty and fashion had an age limit? If I did everything people told me to do, my life wouldn’t be my own.

  If you’re happy rocking a 1980s party-princess look, as I’ve been known to do, or going full Goth with black lips, heavy liner, the works, who am I to tell you to stop? Playing around with your look requires an open, creative mind, and that’s a good thing. It keeps you young. There’s a reason why courageous, adventurous individuals flock to the world of fashion. When done right and to fully express your authentic self, fashion has the power and potential to transform your life. I know what I’m talking about:

  It can alter and enhance your mood. It can inspire a sense of freedom within your life. Whenever I catch a glimpse of my DI$COUNT UNIVERSE dress in the mirror, its signature sequined eye staring back at me, I think, Big things are gonna happen today. I can feel it. If you look good, you feel good.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Color will set you free!

  People ask if I’m challenging the traditional ideas of how a woman in her eighties should look, think, and act by dressing the way I do. I say, hell, yes, I am! Because why the hell not? I’m no shrinking violet.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Happiness is eating frozen yogurt. It’s like tasting a rainbow.

  Photograph by Prince Chenoa and Jacob Dekat for Galore.

  The wood paneling and wallpaper might be 1970s inspired but I’ve never felt more alive than when I was in my eighties!

  Don’t let anyone tell you how you feel and act is inappropriate to your age—unless you’re throwing a temper tantrum at thirty. Then, I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re in more trouble than I can help you with. Life can get you down real quick and if wearing a cool T-shirt or sky-high platforms elevates your headspace and helps you get through the bad times, well, then:

  STEALING YOUR MAN SINCE 1928

  A natural-born heartbreaker, I’ve been stealing your man since 1928, the year of my birth. There’s no shame in my game. Landing a man is all about the attitude. (Being able to rock a bikini helps, too.) I was never the tallest or the prettiest or the sexiest but that didn’t matter. If you feel beautiful, you are beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

  And if you’re in love with someone, hold tight. There’s nothing better than being able to share this world—your life—with someone close to your heart. Don’t leave your man out in the cold. Reel him in. I can spot loneliness a mile away. It’s like I’ve got military-grade “lonely men” radar built into my brain. They walk around like lost little puppies and when they see me they light up like a Christmas tree. You don’t want a trill grandma taking your man, do you?

  DIDN’T THINK SO.

  Photograph by Prince Chenoa and Jacob Dekat for Galore.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  2

  FASHION FORWARD

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  There’s a reason I wear such vibrant colors: My wardrobe is my personal armor against the darkness of the world.

  When my son and husband died, I went through a period of deep grief personal mourning. Those days were long, hard, and lonely. During that time, I forgot what I looked like. I really did. I stared at myself in the mirror only when I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I went through the motions that made up my day, but I wasn’t fully conscious of what I looked like anymore. I couldn’t see the world in front of me.

  Photograph by Adam Rindy for Urban Decay.

  At heart, I’m an all-American gal, forever in blue jeans.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  But I got tired of grieving, so I reinvented myself.

  I made a stand for myself. And for the loved ones I lost. Would my son and my husband want me to pack it in? No. I asked myself: What do I want? What do I want to look back on when I turn ninety-five, one hundred years old? These questions are universal: You’re asking yourself the same ones that I did. I’m just a little farther along in the game. I decided:

  Once I started to focus on my fashion game, I started to remember what I looked like, who I was, and what clothing best complimented me—both my figure and my sense of self. I remembered how to laugh, smile, and dance. I went to the movies and the arcade with my grandchildren. I learned to be alive in the world again, and to see it through “new” eyes. I listened to music as if hearing it for the first time! I vacuumed my house listening to opera.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Marina Fini.

  As far as I’m concerned, music is life. There is nothing better, except maybe a piña colada and homemade chocolate pie. I rediscovered the best parts of myself and brought them to the fore. Today ain’t a rehearsal. I’m bringing my best.

  Photograph by Prince Chenoa and Jacob Dekat for Galore.

  Photograph by Kennedy Lewis.

  Today, I’m a beacon of light for myself and everyone around me. I’m trafficking positive energy. It helps keep me young, keeps my mind flexible, and keeps me happy and healthy. If you wanna be happy, dress happy, sugar. You stack up enough happy days, no matter how old you are, you’ll start to feel like a supermodel.

  Even when my body doesn’t want to get up and go,

  I can’t describe it with words. I don’t have to. These photos say it all.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  3

  PRAY FOR THE BASICS

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Not many yogis do it but, trust me, Smoking (Hot) Granny pose is the key to enlightenment.

  My morning routine consists of waking up, drinking coffee (cream with two artificial sweeteners—the pink ones), smoking a couple of cigarettes, and turning up the stereo. The last thing I do each night is say my prayers.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  My morning routine wouldn’t be complete without a good morning selfie!

  Photograph by Marina Fini.

  I pray for the basics, those hate-filled trolls and bullies for whom life is boring and meaningless. I’ve noticed these individuals are often motivated by anger and negativity. If they’re not tearing you down, they’re tearing themselves down. Being rebellious takes courage. Standing up for yourself can be an act of defiance. Some people don’t like how I look, or act, or the way I speak. I decided long ago not to take on other people’s negativity. If that’s your trip, oh, baby, I feel for you. I do.

  I promise, once you do, life will blossom for you. I’m talking love, happiness, peace of mind, solid body and heart—the good stuff. Until then, I’ll keep doing me and praying each night that basics will find their way.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Oh, and in case you’re wondering, being a prayer-minded Southerner, I go to church every Sunday but I leave my neon-colored clothes and translucent butterfly wings behind. I’ve found that, sometimes, it’s better to be humble than a show pony.

  4

  RAINDROPS ON ROSES

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Have you ever heard the saying, clothes makes the man? Well, it goes both ways, whether you’re a
man or a woman.

  There are a few things in life I can’t live without. My kitchen is always stocked with flour, cornmeal, butter, and spices. What would I do without my black iron skillet?

  Fashion, to me, is as nourishing as a well-cooked meal. In my closet, you’ll always find fur coats, insanely cool dresses, overalls, chokers, and oversized earrings. The dresses and overalls are like flour and cornmeal. They are the absolute necessities, the foundation for a kick-ass outfit. The chokers and earrings add the spice. And my fur coats? They bring it all together to make it sizzle.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  Photograph by Ryan Hall.

  You don’t need a birthday, Valentine’s Day, or any other holiday to celebrate life. Give love—and flowers—freely, and accept them in return with gratitude and joy.