One very common misconception is that heels are difficult to walk in. That's nutty. After a very few minutes you're quite at home, if they fit at all. You don't have to be brutally instructed in what they contribute to the grace of your walk and the shaping of your ankles and calves. Around the house (I'm lucky — I write for a living) I wear two-inch heels all day, without any discomfort. I reserve taller pumps for dressy occa- sions.

And all these delicacies for practically no money at these sales and second-run shops! As free as those attic treasure troves you used to play with.

I live almost entirely in washable separates, and I believe you can do more magic with yourself thusly than any other way. For instance, I don't give a hoot what skirt waist measures. It always fits, if I like the skirt. If I can't zip it up in back I simply wear the zipper open under the variety of belts I own. It is not unattractive to show a V of pretty slip at the lower part of your spinal column, any more than showing the edge of your slip beyond your skirt. Actually, I drop a big fancy bow- end over it . . . or stitch a matching placket into the V . . . if I MUST have that skirt no matter what size.

And so many other treasures you can find in these fabulously "free" places!

I've lost, almost entirely, my early awful embarrassment in selecting and buying my "pretties." I used to have all manner of stories con- coted... "I'm building up a wardrobe for my Little Theatre," "My girlfriend (my wife) is chairborne after an accident and I'm helping her study costume design." Things like that. But in a large city, or in an- other city, that's awfully non-vital. The ladies who clerk at these estab- lishments are merely there to sell goods for their worthy causes. They aren't in the pay of the government to betray people who like the magic of femaledom more than is currently approvable in this particular epoch.

Too, I have a partially documented conviction that older women, who generally clerk, having lost the bloom of their figure, still cling to their sense of beauty and like to, vicariously, live it in somebody else.

Cases in point: In Boston I found a delectable wraparound, and for- getting my measurements which I always do, I queried the lady about the size. She didn't know the size but finally said, with a gentle smile, "It'd fit you." I smiled back in mutual knowledge and bought it.