do you feel it necessary to insult me?
VIOLET: Stop being so sensitive.
MATTIE FAE: He overslept? For my brother-in-law’s funeral? A noon service?
IVY: I’m sure there’s more to the story than—
MATTIE FAE: You shouldn’t make excuses for him. That’s what Charlie does, has always done. Just, “Oh, he overslept, ladi-da, I’ll go pick him up at the bus station.”
IVY: You’re so hard on him.
MATTIE FAE: Boy’s thirty-seven years old and can’t drive ?
VIOLET: He’s a little different, I’ll give you that.
IVY: I think you’re being—
MATTIE FAE: Who can’t drive ?
IVY: I don’t think you’re very—
MATTIE FAE: I’ve seen a chimp drive.
VIOLET: Will you take off that cheap suit and try this on for me, please?
IVY: Cheap?! Did you call this—?!
MATTIE FAE: Is this the kind of thing you had in mind, Vi?
VIOLET: No, it’s to go on the sideboard for the meal, so it should be something we easily recognize—
MATTIE FAE: You mean something big.
VIOLET: Yes. I have a frame we can—
IVY: This is the most expensive item of clothing I own.
VIOLET: I don’t see what difference that makes, how much you paid for it. A suit of armor is expensive, too, but that doesn’t make it appropriate—
MATTIE FAE: Well, this one’s big, but it’s of the two of you—
IVY: Why are you trying to give away your clothes?
MATTIE FAE: Do you mind if it’s of the two of you?—VIOLET: All this shit’s going. I’m downgrading.
IVY: “Downgrading.”
VIOLET: Down sizing , I’m downsizing.
IVY: You’re “downsizing”—
MATTIE FAE: Vi, do you think this is—?
VIOLET: I’m serious, it’s all going. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my days walking around and looking at what used to be. I want that shit in the office gone, I want all these clothes I’m never going to wear gone, I want it all gone! I mean look at these fucking shoes. (Holds up the high heels) Can you picture me in these? Even if I didn’t fall on my face, can you imagine anything less attractive, my swollen ankles and varicose veins? And my toenails, good God, anymore they could dig through cement.
(Mattie Fae holds a photograph in front of Violet.)
MATTIE FAE: Is this the idea?
VIOLET (Takes the photograph) : Look at me. (Shows the photograph to Ivy) Look at me.
IVY: You’re beautiful, Mom.
VIOLET: I was beautiful. Not anymore.
MATTIE FAE: Oh, now—
IVY: You’re still beautiful.
VIOLET: No. One of those lies we tell to give us comfort, but don’t you believe it. Women are beautiful when they’re young, and not after. Men can still preserve their sex appeal well into old age. I don’t mean those men like you see with shorts and those little purses around their waists. Some men can maintain, if they embrace it . . . cragginess, weary masculinity. Women just get old and fat and wrinkly.
MATTIE FAE: I beg your pardon.
VIOLET: Think about what makes a young woman sexy. Think about the last time you went to the mall and saw some sweet little gal and thought, “She’s a cute trick.” What makes her that way? Taut skin, firm boobs, an ass above her knees—
MATTIE FAE: I’m still very sexy, thank you very much.
VIOLET: You’re about as sexy as a wet cardboard box, Mattie Fae, you and me both. Don’t kid yourself. Look . . . can we all just stop kidding ourselves? Wouldn’t we be better off, all of us, if we stopped lying about these things and told the truth? “Women aren’t sexy when they’re old.” I can live with that. Can you live with that?
MATTIE FAE: I can live with it, but I disagree. What about Sophia Loren? What about Lena Horne? She stayed sexy until she was eighty.
VIOLET: The world is round. Get over it. Now try this dress on.
IVY: I’m sorry, I won’t.
VIOLET: Ivy.
IVY: All right, the heat in here is getting
VIOLET: Stop being so sensitive.
MATTIE FAE: He overslept? For my brother-in-law’s funeral? A noon service?
IVY: I’m sure there’s more to the story than—
MATTIE FAE: You shouldn’t make excuses for him. That’s what Charlie does, has always done. Just, “Oh, he overslept, ladi-da, I’ll go pick him up at the bus station.”
IVY: You’re so hard on him.
MATTIE FAE: Boy’s thirty-seven years old and can’t drive ?
VIOLET: He’s a little different, I’ll give you that.
IVY: I think you’re being—
MATTIE FAE: Who can’t drive ?
IVY: I don’t think you’re very—
MATTIE FAE: I’ve seen a chimp drive.
VIOLET: Will you take off that cheap suit and try this on for me, please?
IVY: Cheap?! Did you call this—?!
MATTIE FAE: Is this the kind of thing you had in mind, Vi?
VIOLET: No, it’s to go on the sideboard for the meal, so it should be something we easily recognize—
MATTIE FAE: You mean something big.
VIOLET: Yes. I have a frame we can—
IVY: This is the most expensive item of clothing I own.
VIOLET: I don’t see what difference that makes, how much you paid for it. A suit of armor is expensive, too, but that doesn’t make it appropriate—
MATTIE FAE: Well, this one’s big, but it’s of the two of you—
IVY: Why are you trying to give away your clothes?
MATTIE FAE: Do you mind if it’s of the two of you?—VIOLET: All this shit’s going. I’m downgrading.
IVY: “Downgrading.”
VIOLET: Down sizing , I’m downsizing.
IVY: You’re “downsizing”—
MATTIE FAE: Vi, do you think this is—?
VIOLET: I’m serious, it’s all going. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my days walking around and looking at what used to be. I want that shit in the office gone, I want all these clothes I’m never going to wear gone, I want it all gone! I mean look at these fucking shoes. (Holds up the high heels) Can you picture me in these? Even if I didn’t fall on my face, can you imagine anything less attractive, my swollen ankles and varicose veins? And my toenails, good God, anymore they could dig through cement.
(Mattie Fae holds a photograph in front of Violet.)
MATTIE FAE: Is this the idea?
VIOLET (Takes the photograph) : Look at me. (Shows the photograph to Ivy) Look at me.
IVY: You’re beautiful, Mom.
VIOLET: I was beautiful. Not anymore.
MATTIE FAE: Oh, now—
IVY: You’re still beautiful.
VIOLET: No. One of those lies we tell to give us comfort, but don’t you believe it. Women are beautiful when they’re young, and not after. Men can still preserve their sex appeal well into old age. I don’t mean those men like you see with shorts and those little purses around their waists. Some men can maintain, if they embrace it . . . cragginess, weary masculinity. Women just get old and fat and wrinkly.
MATTIE FAE: I beg your pardon.
VIOLET: Think about what makes a young woman sexy. Think about the last time you went to the mall and saw some sweet little gal and thought, “She’s a cute trick.” What makes her that way? Taut skin, firm boobs, an ass above her knees—
MATTIE FAE: I’m still very sexy, thank you very much.
VIOLET: You’re about as sexy as a wet cardboard box, Mattie Fae, you and me both. Don’t kid yourself. Look . . . can we all just stop kidding ourselves? Wouldn’t we be better off, all of us, if we stopped lying about these things and told the truth? “Women aren’t sexy when they’re old.” I can live with that. Can you live with that?
MATTIE FAE: I can live with it, but I disagree. What about Sophia Loren? What about Lena Horne? She stayed sexy until she was eighty.
VIOLET: The world is round. Get over it. Now try this dress on.
IVY: I’m sorry, I won’t.
VIOLET: Ivy.
IVY: All right, the heat in here is getting
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