Every day is opening night.

“Love, Loss and What I Wore” Announces Mother’s Day Contest Winners

Rick Miramontez / Molly Barnett
rick@oandmco.com / molly@oandmco.com



SUNDAY, MAY 8, 2011

New York, NY (5/5/2011) – Producer Daryl Roth has announced the winners of the Love, Loss and What I Wore Mother’s Day story contest, which invited fans to write in stories about moms, daughters, grandmothers, and anyone else who is celebrated on Mother’s Day, written in the style of Nora Ephron and Delia Ephron’s show. The winners, Irene Ziegler Aston and Kae Tienstra, will have their stories read on stage at the Westside Theatre (407 West 43 Street) by current cast members immediately following the shows on Mother’s Day, this Sunday, May 8th.

“Bangs” by Irene Ziegler Aston of Richmond, VA will be read by Minka Kelly after the 3:00 PM performance, and “The Green Cardigan” by Kae Tienstra of Fogelsville, PA will be read by Conchata Ferrell following the 7:00 PM performance.

The current cast of Love, Loss, and What I Wore (through May 29) includes Conchata Ferrell, Minka Kelly, AnnaLynne McCord, Anne Meara, and B. Smith.

Love, Loss, and What I Wore, opened in October 2009 at the Westside Theatre (407 W 43rd Street), where it’s broken all box office records. Directed by Karen Carpenter, this collection of stories is based on the best-selling book by Ilene Beckerman, as well as on the recollections of the Ephrons’ friends. Like the popular book, Love, Loss, and What I Wore uses clothing and accessories and the memories they trigger to tell funny and often poignant stories that all women can relate to.

The production, which was honored with a 2010 Drama Desk Award and a Broadway.com Audience Award, is performed by a rotating cast of five all-star actors, who perform in five-week cycles. Members of the rotating cast have included Samantha Bee, Alexis Bledel, Kristin Chenoweth, Tyne Daly, Fran Drescher, Janeane Garofalo, Melissa Joan Hart, Carol Kane, Stacy London, Jane Lynch, Natasha Lyonne, Rosie O’Donnell, Rhea Perlman, Caroline Rhea, Doris Roberts, Tracee Ellis Ross, Sherri Shepherd, Brooke Shields, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, Cobie Smulders, Rita Wilson and many more.

In addition to its New York production, Love, Loss, and What I Wore has played in Los Angeles, Toronto, Sydney and more and recently announced that a touring production will kick-off at Chicago’s Broadway Playhouse theatre beginning September 13, 2011.

The performance schedule for Love, Loss, and What I Wore is as follows: Tuesday at 7 p.m., Wednesday and Saturday at 2 p.m. & 8 p.m., Thursday and Friday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets ($79.00) are available via Telecharge.com (212-239-6200) and in-person at the Westside Theatre Box Office (407 West 43rd Street). Same-day general rush tickets ($25.00, cash only) are available at the Westside Theatre box office, beginning at noon. (Limited to two rush tickets per person. Seats are based on availability; some are limited view.)


By Irene Ziegler Aston

When my sisters and I were kids, long bangs were the rage. Beatlemania, dontchaknow. But when hair got in eyes, my mother lost her patience and came at us with the scissors. Not pretty. She always, ALWAYS cut our bangs too short. If you've been on the receiving end of a too-short bang cut, you're feelin' me. The humiliation!

My family calls them Charlie Chocks bangs. Maybe your family calls them Buster Brown bangs. Or refuse-to-leave-your-room-until-they-have-grown-back-out bangs. Or perhaps just ugly ass bangs. All are good. Perhaps this same inclination explains my mother's seeming inability to hem pants without turning them into clam diggers. She still does it! You can say it until you're blue in the face: not too short! Not too short! Save your breath. You're going to get too short. How many times did she make us suffer the indignity of high-water pants?

On only one occasion did her scissor-happy proclivity come in handy. It was in 1971, and I was sixteen; go-go boots kicked, and miniskirts were the rage. My groovy Aunt June from San Francisco, who shopped at I. Magnin’s, sent me white, vinyl go-go boots and the cutest yellow dress of cotton jersey. But the dress hit at the knees and might as well have been a granny gown, as far as I was concerned. There was no way I could wear it to the Homecoming game. I was devastated. Mom to the rescue. After careful measuring, cutting and hemming, my frowsy yellow dress became, to my father's horror, a micro-mini, and I couldn't have been happier. Of course, I couldn't bend over, sit down, or raise my arms, but who cared?

Unfortunately, I had the bad sense to let her trim my bangs at the same time. Afterward, I was devastated. But I needed have worried, as my father was quick to point out: in my new go-go boots and micro-minidress from I. Magnin’s, no one was looking at my bangs.

By Kae Tienstra

Each time I rearrange or clean out my closet there it is–the green jacquard knit cardigan my mother won in a “Name the Chimp” contest in 1958. My mom, Mercy Bernice, was a far-cry from the lumpy, pale , cookie-cutter mothers of my friends. An avid reader, herb gardener, artist and poet, Mercy made up for her limping gait by being smarter and wittier than anyone else. The victim of a 1914 polio epidemic, Mom wore leg braces all her life and dealt with the pain and inconvenience of her handicap with a stoic dignity I never truly appreciated.

When a new clothing store advertised the “Name the Chimp” contest, it was bait my mom couldn't resist. She looked at the photos of several chimpanzees and quickly came up with appropriate and creative names for each. (Sadly, I really can't remember any of the names she chose.) She dashed off her entries, mailed them in and forgot about the entire affair. I think Mom was more surprised than anyone when the store called a few weeks later to inform her that she had won the contest. When would she be coming in to purchase her $100 worth of new clothes? “Katie,” she said to me, “you've won some new clothes. What are you going to select?”

I knew she wouldn't choose any clothing for herself. She understood that fashion was much more important to her 14-year-old daughter than to herself. And, besides, shopping was one of the things that was torture for Mom. It entailed walking, standing and walking some more. She avoided it at all costs.

Next day my best friend Suzie and I hopped the bus to town where I selected a pink and white striped Bermuda shorts outfit, a brown and rather grown-up dress, a green wool pleated skirt and the jacquard knit sweater to match. Mom loved my selections. I wore them through high school and college and even have a photo of myself wearing the sweater while holding one of my infant children. But one day, the sweater just began to feel “dated” and I put it away.

What do you do with 50-year-old green jacquard knit sweater that fell into your possession because of a chimpanzee and a very clever mother?


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