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If only they had a black doll :( Oh to wear something like this everyday!

Both Dixie Carter and Rue McClanahan passed away this year. I was a fan of both ladies and I felt a sense of sadness at the passing of two southern belles I looked up to growing up--well, as much as you can look up to TV characters.

I always wanted to be a southern belle: sophisticated, refined, well-dressed, and welcoming. I've mastered the last two, still working on the first two.

I first learned what it meant for a woman to have class and taste at church. Every Sunday my paternal grandmother, who was quite the belle herself (but not as conscious of it as some of her friends), would pick me up and cart me to the Baptist church not 3 miles from our house. I would sit beside her in the pew watching all the women and their fancy hats and well-made suits.


Although the black church gets a lot of attention for being flashy, the women who attended my church were elegant and gracious. I remember thinking even as a little girl that some day I would grow up to be one of those women. A woman who tended to her husband and children, baked pies for the church and neighbors, and was an example of how to be a lady at all times.

Back then I played a belle on Sundays. I was tomboy Monday-Saturday, but on Sundays I put on my slip, dress suits (that my momma would make from JC Penny patterns), mary janes, and purple velvet and wool church coat (or rabbit fur jacket and muffs depending on my mood).

Eventually, I grew up to be a slightly-less-edgy slightly-more-bellelish version of my mother. My mom is the sweetest person you'll ever meet, but not one to go out of her way to know everyone, and certainly not someone concerned with "behaving appropriately." My mom, who sold her motorcycle to her brother after she got married, loves to recount the story of the time she was a teenager riding in the car with her Aunt True.

Photo courtesey of Open.Salon.com This woman reminds me of the many women who attended my church growing up.

My memories of True were mostly of her being critical and mean to my mother. She could be cold, but loved to play the injured belle when convenient. She was rarely disrespected by anyone close to her. That day, my mother uttered one of her famous curse words in Aunt True's presence. Aunt True said: "That is NOT ladylike!" To which my mother responded, "Who said I was a fucking lady?"

Both of my grandmothers passed away before I entered high school. I remember looking through my maternal grandmother's suit closet in awe. I claimed all the ones that would fit as my own. I even took her size 7.5 heels, and thus begin my shoe addiction. I still have some of them. A classy woman's wardrobe never really goes out of style.

Despite all that, still I faltered. I can't help but think that somewhere between absorbing my mom's subconscious rebellion against meekness and finding not a lot of use for femininity around my hometown neighborhood, I lost my belle in the wind of Virginia's sweaty summers. Somehow I became less Julia Sugarbaker and more Mary Jo Shiveley.

I never got my belle back. But I never stopped looking up to those types of women.

My favorite Television southern belle. Classy, elegant, gracious and sharp as a tack.

Dixie Carter. who played Julia Sugarbaker on Designing Women was my favorite southern belle. I remember watching DW and attempting to memorize every detail of Julie's suits and mannerisms. I remember thinking THAT'S what a woman should be like.

McClanahan,  most well-known for playing Blanche Devereaux on Golden Girls (which aired about the same years as Designing Women), the hot and bothered proud southern woman, was a transformative figure as it pertains southern belle tv portrayals. This wasn't a southern damsel in distress (see: Delta Burke as Suzanne Sugarbaker) or the woman who was southern as an after-thought (see: Annie Potts as Mary Jo Shively).

A southern belle should be welcoming and full of life.

Southern women on television were typically in films about slavery or shown infrequently as dainty and conniving post-slavery white women [good luck finding many black southern belles in entertainment]. Devereaux's character, however, combined the southern belle's dignity with the modern girls' pursuit of sexual freedom. Somehow McClanahan's character achieved balance without contradiction.

I should be so lucky. I suppose it's not too late to hitch my horse back up to my southern belle dreams. Over the years, I've learned to be proud of my accent and give in to my sensitivity when necessary. I've cleaned up my wardrobe tremendously and I am quite the gracious host(ess).

I guess all hope isn't lost. Otherwise I'll have to stop aspiring to be a southern belle and settle for just being a southern girl. Still something to be proud of.