Fourth grade was the time to expand my individual style. I had already acquired a nickname and had fallen heir to my mom’s alligator shoulder bag. With these touches of panache, I was indeed a work in progress.
Our teacher, 70-ish Miss S, seemed an unsuitable replacement for youthful Miss P, our elegantly clad third-grade idol. But then I discovered her eyebrow!
Despite her uninspiring appearance, Miss S was a gifted orator who occasionally raised one eyebrow for emphasis. I became obsessed with that eyebrow and deemed it a powerful stylistic plus.
For months, I was locked in the lavatory, teaching myself to lift my left eyebrow only. In time, the eyebrow became a fifth appendage with a life of its own. It could even do “Groucho” and wiggle by itself!
On stage, that eyebrow enhanced my “Little Sarah Hardtbern’s” portrayals of imperious old termagants. Friends and family put up with “Miss Snotnozzle” lifting that eyebrow contemptuously and trumpeting, “Oh, really?”
Many style elements (the wiener skirt, for example) became passe over the years. But I still lift that eyebrow.
Fabulous! Such a skill. And the video is so dear. Thanks, Max.