Soooooo Joonyaleeg

THE Junior League. In my childhood, the women of THE Junior League (pronounced joonyaleeg) were everything my mother was not: girly, fit, well-dressed, coiffed, made up, socially ambitious, members of the country club. They sold apples every year, and all the 'popular' girls were picked up from school in cars with red Apple Annie stickers on the back windows. These girls were just like their mothers.

I was more like mine.

In young adulthood, I grew to share Rebecca Wells' view - or one of her characters' view - of such organizations. In one of Wells' novels, a child has heard her mother and friends describe anything seen as conformist, boring, or clammoring for social approval as 'so joonyaleeg.' And so the child is mortified when she uses this word to describe something at a party, only to realize as the word escapes her mouth what it means - Junior League. Her hostess, of course, is the president and queen bee of said organization. Later, she laughs. To this character - and for a time, to me - women who belong to these clubs embodied a particular negative stereotype - Stepford wivey, emptyheaded, boring. Sans edge. Well-behaved. And the worst - stupid.
And so, in light of recent developments, I confess. I have become what I ridiculed.

I am a Junior Woman.

And I will be the first to admit, the title alone is funny. A 'junior' woman. When do I get to be a full-fledged one? When I turn 45, it seems. Until then, I am the lesser model - resigned to Skipperdom, hoping to one day become a Barbie.

But before you think I've abandoned all that previous derision, know this - my club? It ain't your mama's Junior League. Or maybe it just looks different from the inside.

You see, the women of my club, they aren't all that well-behaved. As I get to know them, I find edge, darkness, determination and grit I never expected to find among the French Country furnishings, Pinot Grigio, and cashmere.

My current favorite is Bunni, a high-voiced personal trainer with a terrific wardrobe and fabulous house in our town's nuevo-riche subdivision. Get to know her, and you find out she's been married three times before the age of 30, the last time to a builder, hence the fabulous house. Husband one was a cheater, number two was a Vegas marriage quickly annuled (or, as she puts it, she pulled a Britney), and number three was a drinker who left her with a mortgage she can barely pay. Despite this, she's upbeat and hilariously sarcastic. She also loves to shock people with her marriage stats.

Another member is Barbie, stay at home mom with blonde hair and new boobs. Barbie, however, is a computer whiz and vicious roller hockey player. I was invited to join the club by A, a fellow lawyer who recently lost over 100 lbs. She credits 'the divorce diet,' alluding to her recent split from a husband who was her father's age. She tells hilarious stories about trips home to visit her hippie mother, who grows her own marijuana and sounds like she belongs on a commune.

And these are just the best examples. The club also includes Missy, a 4k teacher who recently set her classroom on fire and Sheila, career student and amature private investigator who has dated most of the unmarried men in town - and maybe some of the married ones.
These women look the part of THE Junior League of my hometown, but they certainly don't act it.

Maybe that's why I like them.