Dee Dee Who?

I am feeling a bit more human today.

The fog of war with my own body is gradually lifting, and I want to feel pretty again. I've just called my favorite Pasadena salon to arrange for a mani-pedi, an upper lip threading and eyebrow waxing.

I discovered this place about five months ago while wandering off the beaten path of Old Pasadena. When I saw the sign for threading, a technique I'd read about in Nora Ephron's I Feel Bad About My Neck, I wandered in.

This place looks and feels like a high-end spa, especially when compared with the little strip-mall, whole-in-the-wall place I'd been frequenting in my Altadena neighborhood. But, in spite of the luxurious setting, the costs for services are modest. The deluxe (massage chair, foot bath) mani-pedi costs just $28 and lasts twice as long as those I received from my no-frills salon. And they'll whip those threads across my upper lip for a mere $6.00.

So now I'm a regular, rubbing elbows with the bow-head set of Pasadena. The bow-head set you ask? You may have seen them and not known what to call them. Their blonde little girls wear enormous grosgrain ribbon bows with the wingspan of a baby California condor. The mothers have an enviable amount of leisure time that they use playing golf or tennis, shopping, lunching or having mani-pedis.

Their resemblance to one another is uncanny. As I sat waiting for my turn, I eyed a tall, tanned blonde woman with her pony-tail poking out of the back of her cap. She wore a pink polo shirt, white bermuda shorts and a rockin' diamond ring.

A half-hour later, another woman in a similar uniform sat down beside me. I told her that I'd just seen her twin. except for a different color top and cap. "Was she really buff?" she asked. "Yes, as a matter of fact, she was. I was staring at her muscles," I replied.

"I know that woman," the flaxen-haired woman continued. "She was a top-seeded tennis player, but now she's into golf. Plays every day. I only have time to play two or three times a week. Our kids go to the same school."

As this is going on, the owner shouts out that Dee Dee Myers is trying to book an appointment. "No. No time for Dee Dee Myers. Her feet take too long. Almost two hours."

When bow-head mom and I sit down beside one another for foot baths, she tells me about the many moms from her children's Pasadena K-8 prep school who frequent this salon. Dee Dee Myers' name comes up again.

I'm dying to ask if it's that Dee Dee Myers - you know, the beautiful blonde woman who was a White House Press Secretary to Bill Clinton. Is she the one with the two-hour feet?

I missed my opportunity that day, but perhaps I'll find out today.