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months the entire group (with very few exceptions) abstains from dressing at their monthly meetings! I am not kidding. This is actually what they do. And do you know the excuse given for not dressing? You won't believe me but here it is: it's too hot! I simply couldn't believe my ears. A TV who abstains from dressing because it's too hot! I suppose this group has discovered a haberdashery that sell sleeveless shirts with low cut necks and cool nylon trousers and open-toe masculine sandals. If this is not the case how can they possibly feel cooler in men's attire? I say this because I've found that Summer is the ideal season for TV's . . . a wisp of a dress. . . light feathery sandals. . . no sleeves low neck . . no socks . no trousers, no heavy masculine shoes, no necktie . . . How can any TV in her senses have the effrontery to say that it is too hot to dress! The make-up runs? You are using the wrong make-up, baby! Your waist cincher is too hot and uncomfortable? Cut down on those beers and you won't need that tight cincher! The wig is too hot? You are wearing a cheap wig! . . . the good ones provide beautiful ventilation to the scalp. Nylons too hot? They are less hot than socks and trousers! No my dear friends. You will have to come up with a much better excuse to explain why you don't dress at your meetings! A nasty thought: could it be that some of your GG'S are subtly brainwashing their hubbies into not dressing so often? Hmmm?

I guess I've overdone the criticism this time, but since I missed one TVia I felt I had to double the eye-scratching material I usually offer in this column. Now for more serene items: Summer has been wonderland for me this year. I was lucky to meet and befriend the local constable in the resort area. Despite Sheila's suspicion that when a TV "passes" he is simply treading on the average citizen's fear of "getting involved" and is fooling no one but himself, I can state without a shadow of a doubt that my constable has not read me had lunch together at my house and he told me his whole life history. He thinks I am a married woman (my "husband" is a Jewish New York lawyer - this is the story my GG told him) and several other people in town. I have no children and I don't have to work for a living (my "husband" is quite wealthy). We have run into each other in the village and my constable is all sweetness when he greets me.

I have also befriended, as Susanna, several local merchants.