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To say that I’m a little obsessed with Barbie is an understatement.

At last count, I owned more than 200 dolls along with three dollhouses. My home office is decorated in Barbie pink with black, gray and purple as the accent colors. And visitors to The Monroe News office have long been entertained seeing whatever doll I have displayed at my desk.

So it is perhaps no surprise that my phone started buzzing with text messages Thursday with this headline: Mattel dramatically reworked the Barbie doll play line so that there are now four body sizes — original, tall, curvy and petite — along with a range of skin tones and hair colors.

I think the new releases are rather cute and will place an order for some. I’ll be certain to include any available fashions for the differently sized dolls when making my purchase.

The reason I’m going to make a careful selection — and soon — is that given the history of the Barbie line, I don’t expect the range of choices to last.

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It’s a foregone conclusion that despite the long history of diversity in appearances and ethnicity of Barbie Roberts, her friends and younger sisters, the stereotype remains that Barbie is an impossibly thin, blonde young woman who wears fabulous fashions and shares them with her friends.

Based on what I’ve seen as a fan, noticed when seeing my daughter and nieces play and learned while researching the history of Barbie, I doubt whether the market is really interested in different wardrobe sizings.

Do you remember the fashion doll made of Rosie O’Donnell in 1999? She was “curvy,” to use the current phrasing, a realistic depiction of the talk show host. But I never saw a clothing wardrobe made to fit Rosie and until now, no other mainstream fashion doll was depicted as curvy.

Another example is Skipper, Barbie’s sister who has had multiple changes in age and appearance since she was introduced in 1964. The 1996 Teen Skipper is almost as tall as Barbie and obviously a high-schooler, a significant difference from the 1988 doll who appears to be 12 despite being sold in a homecoming formal.

Neither of those dolls can wear dresses or shoes designed for each other, much less the wardrobes intended for Barbie or other sisters. They may as well be two different people!

In fact, a recent inspection of a toy shelf showed that while I could find some fashions for Barbie and a few for Ken, there were none marketed to fit Stacie, Kelly, Chelsea or whatever names the younger sisters have these days. And yet, multiple variations of the younger sister and friend dolls are on the shelf.

Let’s say you are a little girl or collector who likes to redress a doll. That was the whole point of Barbie in the first place: She was created to be a 3-D version of the paper dolls little girls loved during the 1950s.

Since most wardrobe pieces don’t have the sizings marked after you take them out of the packages, it’s a bit of trial and error to find out which outfits fit which doll.

Even with the dolls and accessories now in my collection, a particular ballet flat doesn’t fit all of the flat-footed girls, the handmade dress I bought from a crafter used a pattern that doesn’t fit the bodice of the doll I wish to display it on. You get the idea.

How soon do you think the novelty of a doll “that looks like me” or “looks like my friend” will wear off?

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When Eugene insisted Shonta open her copy of the Winston-Salem Journal early one January morning, she had no idea what she was about to read. Sitting at the kitchen table, Shonta did a double take when she flipped to page A3 and spotted the quarter-page ad with a familiar picture. After reading Eugene’s written request to start a lifetime of laughs, smiles and love together, Shonta turned to find him on one knee holding up a ring.

According to the front-page story that ran in the paper the next day, Shonta did not hesitate. “She said, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’”

Eugene had called the Journal less than 24 hours beforehand, frantically trying to reach the correct department to submit his proposal before the deadline. His goal was to make the January 27 paper, as Shonta explains: “The date of the 27th is very special to both of us… [It’s] his mother’s birthdate as well as my parents’ and my sister’s wedding anniversary.”

The couple originally met at Shonta’s parents’ house back in 1994. Eugene was a student at UNC Charlotte at the time and had traveled to Winston-Salem over Thanksgiving to visit his former roommate, who also happened to be Shonta’s cousin. They eventually fell out of touch until reconnecting in 2013, and Eugene proposed two years later.

“His idea and story brought the young lady [at the paper] that finally answered to tears. And thus the proposal made the paper the next day,” says Shonta. “The rest is history … literally.”

Once their engagement hit the newsstands, the couple had less than five months to plan their June wedding. They decided to tie the knot at Shonta’s hometown church, First Baptist Church on Highland Avenue, before heading to Embassy Suites in downtown Winston-Salem for the reception.

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“We both wanted something very classy with a party atmosphere and celebratory feel. This was my second wedding, and neither of us wanted it to be really formal,” Shonta says. “The wedding was to be symbolic of our relationship and future lives together.”

The bride wore an ivory satin wedding gown with intricate crystal beading, which she had fallen in love with after her daughter spotted it at the bridal boutique. Shonta finished her look with an elegant birdcage veil and Nina steel luster pumps with crystal ankle straps.

“Initially I set a budget and had the exact style in mind that I wanted. I tried on several dresses in the price range and style I selected until my daughter found something that she wanted me to try,” she explains. “And of course that dress ended up being THE dress and all budgets and previous plans went out the window!”

The couple’s daughters played an important part of their day by serving as members of the wedding party. Shonta’s daughter, Syan, was the maid of honor while Eugene’s daughter, Kailyn, escorted him to the altar. The girls stood nearby as their parents exchanged traditional vows.

“Blending the two families was very important to us, especially with our three girls. Everything we did was with the thought of how our families would be joined together with the celebration.”

Shonta and Eugene joined their 350 guests in the Embassy Suites’ grand pavilion ballroom for a plated dinner reception. The couple had taken time perfecting the seating chart to ensure that both sides of their families would mix and mingle.

“We were adamant about blending the families and not having our guests ‘pick sides,’” Shonta says. “It was important to us that we place all of our loved ones intentionally to spark conversations with one another, not only about us as the bride and groom, but about one another.”

During their first dance to Stevie Wonder’s classic “You and I,” a sound malfunction forced the couple to sing the words in each other’s ears as their family and friends helped finish the song. The unplanned moment made the dance “even more special” for the couple.

Later on in the evening, the couple cut into their single-layer wedding cake topped with fresh white flowers and surrounded by dozens of mini pearl-white cupcakes. Following the sugar boost from the sweet dessert, everyone jumped on the dance floor to continue the revelry into the night.

“It truly was a great celebration of families joining together … just as we planned!”

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Dan Terrio isn’t quite old enough, so throwing on a colorful leisure suit popularized in the 1970s apparently has been ruled out when Terrio lays out his wardrobe later this week.

Born in the 1980s, a child in the 1990s and a high school graduate in the 2000s, the 31-year-old Terrio figures he can’t go wrong with what he winds up wearing when he returns to prom. Terrio is the coordinator of Throwback Prom, a turn-back-the-clock event for adults Saturday night that will benefit American Red Cross of Northeast Wisconsin.

“I’m going to keep that a surprise,” Terrio said of his planned attire. “You never know, I might be in three different tuxedos that night.”

The festivities, which will include the coronation of a prom king and queen, will start at 6:30 p.m. at Brett Favre’s Steakhouse in Ashwaubenon.

A multigenerational turnout is expected, with the list of those who have purchased tickets ranging in age from early 20s to late 70s.

The choice of dresses, tuxes and anything in between should be just as varied.

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“I’ve heard from people that have gone out and bought ball gowns because they’d never experienced prom,” said Terrio, a longtime volunteer for the Red Cross. “I also have had people tell me that they’re going in 1980s attire. They’re pulling out prom dresses from the 1970s and the 1990s, all of the way over to someone who … is looking at renting a costume from the Renaissance period.”

Mina Witte said she “might have something silly planned” for her gown. No need to go conservative as a first-time prom attendee.

Witte missed out on going to prom when she was in high school. She was home-schooled during those formative years, which were devoted to touring the country and the world as an Irish dancer.

“It will be interesting to experience prom as an adult,” Witte, 22, said.

Her date for the Throwback Prom is her husband of two years, Michael Witte. They own and provide instruction at the Simply Ballroom dance studio in Green Bay.

Michael and Mina are hoping to leave the dance late Saturday night arm-in-arm as prom king and queen. They are the only couple on the prom court of four men and four women.

The voting for king and queen will be determined by fundraising by the court members since November, combined with a donation dash that night.

“But, the real winner of the night is the American Red Cross, so it really doesn’t matter who takes the crown home that night,” Terrio said. “It’s about the cause.”

All proceeds from Throwback Prom will go to the Red Cross’ local chapter.

Terrio’s inspiration for the event came from parents who were fascinated by the garb worn by high school boys and girls in the local Mr. Titletown Competition and Formal Wear Fashion Show he previously organized.

“I always wanted to do an adult prom or a throwback prom, just to get the adults excited and have them relive their high school experience, relive their prom experience,” Terrio said.

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Rebecca Carrington, from Moston, received the prestigious and internationally-recognised award at the Clothes Show Live last month.

She secured her win by impressing judges with a ready to wear garment inspired by the Tokyo fashion scene.

The competition was open to entrants aged 17-25, who were set the task of designing and creating a garment suitable for a top fashion blogger.

Rebecca, 22, said: “I am grateful that my design was recognised and supported by people in the fashion industry.

“It was really exciting for me to see my work on the catwalk again.”

All candidates were advised that judges would be looking for bold and confident pieces which stood out for ‘all the right reasons’.

INSPIRED: On her trip with Man Met Rebecca loved how 'cute' the fashion is in Tokyo

After judges managed to whittle the competition down to the top ten entrants, each finalist got the chance to see their final pieces modelled on the show’s Image Catwalk.

Talking about how she prepared for this occasion, Rebecca explained how it took about a month to finalise her designs.

Rebecca said: “The preparation is in the clothing, and the way it falls. Out on the catwalk it is all down to the quality of the clothing itself.

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“I just made sure that my outfit was made well, and really spent time in making it the best I could.”

The fashion graduate got her inspiration for her winning designs on a university trip to Tokyo – and experience she had ‘always dreamed of’.

She said: “I was in awe of the way Japanese girls and women dressed to be ‘cute’. In Britain, we often opt for clothes that are more sophisticated as we grow up.

“That wasn’t the case in Japan so I felt inspired. I love finding inspiration in unexpected places.”

Earlier on last year, Rebecca’s collection also helped her to win the £5,000 gold prize at the Phoenix Cup fashion competition in China.

Rebecca was also encouraged to enter China’s Phoenix Cup fashion competition which saw triumph over entrants, including two classmates, to a £5,000 and the opportunity to travel to Ningbo.

She remains modest about her two award wins, and thinks that winning the Phoenix Cup was a great honour.

She said: “I was shocked to win, but most of all I felt really honoured that my collection was appreciated internationally.

“It was an amazing opportunity winning an international competition. I got to go to the city of Ningbo with two of my classmates, share my work and meet other designers.”

Although, the success of her collections is something the designer should be proud of, she added how there is still a stigma attached to pursuing a career in fashion.

She said: “I feel it’s more acceptable to get a job and work for money and find a sense of security.

“Whereas I’m sticking to my guns, following my heart abd doing what I enjoy doing in my life and that’s being creative.”

Choosing to stay in Manchester while she studied for her degree, means that the designer was able to see the comparison between the northern city’s style and that of Japan.

Explaining the differences she has noticed, she added: “I like how people dress laid back in Manchester.

“It’s quite interesting how in Manchester we dress for comfort and the weather, and in Japan they dress more traditional.”

Rebecca was also keen to state that unlike many designers, she doesn’t see her collection as a reflection of her style.

In fact, instead of thinking about the look of her design, Rebecca focuses on creating characters and telling a story with her work.

She said: “It’s always about the narrative for me. I get completely absorbed into creating characters.

“I then imagine what they would wear, and how they would behave in the world. It’s about the characters life and style for me.”

Looking ahead to the future, Rebecca told us us about what she is aiming to achieve in 2016.

She said: “I’ve taken a step back, and took some time for myself. I am focusing on developing my design skills also by applying for paid internship.”

Joe McCullagh, Head of Design and Associate Dean for learning and Teaching at the Manchester School of Art, is certain Rebecca is headed for greatness.

He said: “We are all absolutely delighted for Rebecca on her awards last year

“Rebecca’s work typifies the individuality and creativity from our fashion students.”

“We congratulate Rebecca and we know that she will go on to further great things in the futures.”

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Moving from being a high school senior to a young adult in college is a pivotal moment in a young person’s life and to ensure that teens have the proper tools to successfully make the transition, the Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Covington Area Alumnae Chapter is offering its third annual Cotillion Ball program.

Open to both high school seniors and juniors, the Cotillion program is a year-long social and cultural refinement training effort designed to usher the youth into the new phase of their lives.

“The point of the whole program is for us to present young people to society,” said Stephanie Moore, a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Covington Area Alumnae Chapter and Cotillion chairperson.

The Cotillion program, dubbed the “Cotillion Ball: Dancing to Destiny,” will present a free Informational Brunch on Saturday, Feb. 6 from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Newton County Board of Education, 2109 Newton Drive. There are 12 slots available per grade level and gender, with the program serving 48 youth total.

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The Cotillion group meets monthly at various locations, such as the Washington Street Community Center, the Covington Regional Ballet, Newton High School and the Newton County Courthouse, and the youth listen to presentations on various topics or have social outings. Workshops cover issues such as worship, political awareness and involvement, international awareness, physical and mental health (including the topic of sexual education), etiquette and formal letter-writing. The group takes field trips to places such as the theater, ice skating, bowling and the dance studio, where they learn to waltz.

“It builds camaraderie and friendship,” said Moore.”(It also) reminds them that there is a time to have fun and a time to be polished.”

The program culminates in the Cotillion Ball, which this year takes place in March at the Atlanta Airport Marriott Gateway hotel.

“All of what they went through that year is brought to one magical night,” said Moore.

Moore said of the 24 teens from last year’s senior class, 22 attend post-secondary institutions including the Georgia Institute of Technology, Mississippi State University, University of West Georgia, Valdosta State University, University of Pennsylvania, Tuskegee University and Savannah State University. Some also joined the U.S. Armed Forces.

The participation cost for the program can run several hundred dollars, said Moore, and the fees help pay for the speakers, venues, meals, transportation, dresses, tuxedos and other services.

Moore, who was a debutante herself and graduated from Auburn University, said she is “extremely passionate” about the sorority’s Cotillion program, as it not only prepares the students for professional life but also extends a network of support to them as they make their journey into college and career.

“It helps them stay crisp and sharp for the next level of opportunity,” said Moore.

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North High senior LeeAnne Younger finally found the perfect Winter Formal dress, a floor-length purple gown that fit just right the first time she put it on.

But not where you’d expect. On the North High campus itself.

It was at the North High School Boutique, started just a week and a half ago by Alison Toy, North High’s activities director and physical education teacher, and Associated Student Body students who wanted to help those needing a little extra help affording a dance outfit.

The boutique is stocked with gently used formal dresses, shoes, accessories, men’s suits, dress pants, ties and belts.

“Our mission was to give as many girls a chance to be as beautiful as possible and the opportunity to go to formal,” said Brooke McNamara, senior ASB president.

If you have any items to donate to the NHS Boutique, you can drop them off at the school, 300 Galaxy Ave., from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.

While at an ASB conference this school year, Toy heard another activities director speak about a free dress rental service for students, and knew it would be a great idea at North High.

Word of it spread when Jennifer Stanley, North’s history teacher and AVID coordinator, posted about it on Facebook.

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“Ladies! I am asking for your help. We have lots of students every year at NHS who do not go to formal or prom simply because they cannot afford a dress,” Stanley wrote. “We need your dresses!”

This public went crazy.

Within two days of the post, North High received 68 dresses. Over the course of a week, people shared the post more than 650 times, and the school received 208 dresses, 30 pairs of shoes, 25 men's shirts, five belts and multiple ties.

One Facebook user promised to send dresses from Texas.

The students get to shop and borrow the outfits for free. The boutique, located in the ASB building, features three dressing rooms and a full-length mirror.

Younger said that before the boutique opened, she wasn’t going to go to the Enchanted Forest-themed formal, to be held Saturday. She wouldn’t have been able to afford the $50 ticket and a dress.

Stanley points out there’s also the tie and the flowers and the accessories and the shoes to buy.

“It’s expensive to go to formal,” she said.

Younger said when she was shopping for her dress in the boutique, she was encouraged by the ASB students.

“It made me happy,” Younger said. “To have the feeling of them looking at me in this dress and saying ‘That’s gorgeous on you’ just made me feel nice.”

Younger hopes other students will take advantage of this program.

The boutique “will allow these other kids to get the experience of going to formal and being happy in a beautiful gown that they chose from this huge selection without even paying for it,” she said.

The school has received a lot of support from the community — so much that two clothing racks broke due to being overstuffed with colorful dresses.

Mr. Tuxedo is also contributing to the cause. It gave NHS Boutique six gift certificates for $25 off tuxedo and shoe rentals.

Hair stylists and makeup artists have also reached out to NHS Boutique, said Toy, who wanted to make it known how grateful she is for all of the support.

Toy said she is trying to partner with a local dry cleaning company for when the students return the clothing. If she can’t find a cleaning company, NHS Boutique will most likely have to charge students a small cleaning fee.

McNamara said she hopes this idea will expand and become a multi-school program.

Although North’s formal is on Saturday, the boutique is here to stay. Toy said she wants students to have access to NHS Boutique for other events, including prom, senior girls’ tea, senior boys barbecue and graduation.

“Every kid deserves to feel like a million bucks, even if it’s for one night to make memories,” said Toy.

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The first Panamanian I met promptly handed me a baby.

It was a logical move, from her perspective. She was the lone person working a bamboo-walled roadside stand halfway between Tocumen International Airport and the sunbaked Azuero Peninsula. I had parked our rental car, told my parents to wait, and run in to order a cantaloupe milkshake. And, of course, you can’t cut melon, scoop ice and operate a blender while holding a little girl.

But for a visitor just off a five-hour nonstop from New York, it was a bewilderingly tender moment.

“Me permite?” she asked with utter nonchalance, then handed me the 4month-old with scrunched up lips and golden stud earrings. “Her name is Hannah,” she continued in the choppy Caribbean-style Spanish of the country. “Like Hannah Montana.”

Hannah was perfectly calm, as if she had been handed to scruffy, gray-bearded foreigners a thousand times before. A few minutes later, I handed her back, along with $2.50 for the shake (Panama operates on U.S. dollars) and headed back to the car, where my parents were waiting. I showed them the selfie I had taken, hoping to pass some of the warm welcome on to them.

A pork chop with fried green plantains at El Chichemito, a traditional Panamanian restaurant on the Azuero Peninsula. Credit Seth Kugel for The New York Times

It seemed an appropriately familial moment. In a sense, my parents have been watching their own son depend on the kindness of strangers to care for him for over five years as the Frugal Traveler columnist. This would be the fifth and final time I took Peter and Judy Kugel along (as Feb. 7 will mark my final column).

It was an auspicious start to our trip. My parents essentially taught me to travel, and we believe that being handed a baby, getting a rental car stuck in the mud (Nicaragua), swimming with a local family (Croatia), happening upon a midsummer feast (Norway) or dining out in the immigrant-filled suburbs (Vancouver) are the kind of experiences that matter more than museums and sightseeing cruises. And they almost always cost less.

That’s one of the reasons we were heading to Azuero in the first place. A Panamanian friend of a friend had called it “one of my favorite places” and “very traditional of the Panamanian culture.” When I found very little online except for talk of surf breaks (age inappropriate) and annual festivals (not coinciding with our dates), I decided it would be a perfect low-key first experience in what was a new country for all of us. An added bonus: It’s the driest part of the country, which we’d be visiting during the rainy season.

Panama itself is convenient to get to. There are direct flights from a dozen U.S. cities, plus Puerto Rico, on Copa Airlines; my parents flew in from Boston and I came from New York. A search this week found flights from February for as low as $500 from New York and $560 from Boston. My ticket was more expensive, the first leg of a longer trip. (Wait for that Feb. 7 column for more.)

The Azuero, a squarish 3,000 square miles of land that juts out into the Pacific from the southern coast, about four hours from Panama City, is perhaps best known for a town called Pedasí. An allegedly adorable spot with a colonial center, I read it was becoming popular among American retirees, and saw there is even a place called the Bakery, whose sign boasts “artisanal bread”; its muffins and pepperoni pizza get strong reviews on TripAdvisor.

Pedasí was out.

Instead, we checked into Hostel Kimmell, a bed-and-breakfast in the lazy little town of Santo Domingo. It is run by Martha Kimmell, who as a child came from Panama City to spend summers in what had been her great-grandmother’s house. Ms. Kimmell speaks near-perfect English (with an outsized affection for the phrase “I’m not going to lie to you”) and is an aggressively good host — short on charm but spirited and well-meaning. She told us how she is leading an effort to develop tourism in her corner of Azuero, training local guides and developing activities on a still-rough rural tourism loop.

I had bypassed online booking sites and contacted Martha directly, booking a “family room” for $89 a night, less than the online price. My parents said would prefer their own room, but I’ve long found that if you book cramped quarters in the off-season, the hosts will often upgrade you. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve put in you in two rooms,” Martha told us. Mind getting a $145 value for $89? Not at all.

The rooms bordered a covered outdoor area replete with hammocks — perfect for reading and watching the neighbors stroll by under their umbrellas (used to ward off the sun, not the rain that was pelting other regions of the country).

My parents are generally up for anything they can still do at ages 77 and 85. (My mother could probably do back flips if she tried; my father is slower, but shows remarkable taste for adventure nine years into a diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease.) So we accepted Martha’s generous offer to take us on a local tour into the inland hills, through agricultural villages with picturesque names like Loma Bonita (Pretty Hill) and Bajo Corral (Low Corral). It ended on a hilltop that overlooked cornfields and had a sweeping view down to the sea.

Or so we expected. “I didn’t realize it would get dark so soon,” said Martha. We settled on a visit to a tiny general store, Kiosco Los Sobrinos, where the owner showed us a traditional embroidered dress she was making and sold me a glass bottle of Canada Dry ginger ale for 35 cents.

By now, Martha’s guides are offering tours in English and Spanish for $25 an hour — while we were there, she was still winging them, for free. On a morning hike the next day, my father asked what bird was making a repeated call in the distance. “I have no idea,” she said, noting that she was trying to convince the government to fund a wildlife inventory. We laughed. That was after she took us to “help” milk her boyfriend Carlos’s cows. Even though it was barely after dawn, he and another worker had already filled several 35-liter metal tanks with frothy milk; they allow each calf to nurse from its mother as they milk her, which we found adorable. They assigned me to one of the tamer cows (named Muñeca, or doll) and watched as I extracted a tiny fraction of a liter.

My parents contented themselves taking photos of their son’s incompetence; I learned that my dad had milked cows one summer in upstate New York, circa 1940, and we all learned how the business worked in Azuero: Farmers leave the full tanks by the side of the road, and companies send trucks around to take the milk. Carlos used to sell his milk to Quesos Lourdes, a local company which made the fresh yogurt we would later have at breakfast, but now sold to Nestlé.

That kind of detail — that a multinational corporation like Nestlé gets its milk from cows like Carlos’s — is enough to fascinate me, so I was happy to hear my father enjoyed it as well. “It’s a kind of tourism I haven’t done in a long time,” he said.

He was referring to a day spent seeing nothing but the normal life of the region. And we continued it that night, when we went for the second time to a place called Dolce y Saladito, a casual, untouristed, nominally Italian place in the neighboring (and much bigger) town of Las Tablas. We stuck mostly to the local fare, especially the expertly fried green plantains, fresh $2 juices (like frosty pineapple and very fresh strawberry) and generously portioned $5 plates of Creole-style fried rice studded with carrots and celery and chicken or pork. (Panamanian cuisine is a mix of Caribbean — this meal’s apparent influence — and Central American influences.)

It was becoming evident that the main attraction of the peninsula is its small-town ordinariness, a change from our more complex urban ordinariness back home. To be clear, there are some legitimate tourist attractions in Azuero. We took a boat ($70 for up to six people) to Isla Iguana, an island wildlife reserve populated by two kinds of lizards but most notable for its empty (on nonholiday weekdays, at least) and near-perfect beach, covered with skittering hermit crabs. We visited a dusty museum in Las Tablas (admission, $1) dedicated to its native son Belisario Porras, a three-time president of Panama in the early 20th century, and were tickled to meet one of his great-grandsons, who coincidentally was there removing a portrait of the president lent to the museum by his brother.

And we ended up getting a small taste of the peninsula’s festivals by visiting the Casa Museo Manuel F. Zárate, a tiny, airy house museum in the little town of Guararé. The town of 4,500 is known for its annual September festival celebrating the mejorana, a traditional Panamanian stringed instrument. Entrance was free, as was a Spanish-speaking guide: We learned about the festival and its founder, Mr. Zárate, and viewed examples of the intricate embroidered polleras, dresses produced locally and used in the festival. Our guide, Pancho, also told us of a curious local ordinance: During the month of the festival, non-Panamanian music is prohibited within town limits. “If you hear someone playing foreign music, you can call the police and they will come stop it,” he said.

My favorite activity, though, was simply to wander out of Martha’s home and around Santo Domingo. By day, the town was largely empty, even in the old-fashioned central plaza. But at night people appeared on their porches, bought supplies at Doña Gilma’s minimart, turned up 1990s merengue in their homes or tossed baseballs in the street. (Panama is a baseball country, boasting several major leaguers, including Randall Delgado of the Arizona Diamondbacks, a native of Las Tablas.) We had all noticed an adorably pink house on one corner, surrounded by flowering bushes surrounding it, and I made a mental note to come back and take a picture it the next day. My plans were foiled the next morning by a naked 2-year-old climbing on the porch furniture, rendering photography creepily inappropriate.

We did leave a day and a half to explore Panama City at the end — staying at a $135 a night Airbnb apartment in Casco Viejo, the old colonial center that had declined and decayed and is currently being restored, with predictable gallery-cafe-boutique-hotel-heavy results. My parents love Frank Gehry, so we went to his lone Latin American work, the Biodiversity Museum (admission, $22) under a riotously jagged, multicolored roof that resembles a partially melted Lego castle.

And, of course, we had to go to the Canal and watch a boat go through the Miraflores Locks ($15). It’s a whole to-do described by a wisecracking bilingual P.A. announcer. With the water draining astonishingly fast from one of the massive locks in under 10 minutes, he said: “The fish don’t know whether they’re coming or going, they might as well go along for the ride!”

His jokes were not a match for my father’s humor, an occasionally embarrassing mainstay of our family trips dating back to the 1980s. The boat was flying a Liberian flag and hauling what looked like enormous propane gas tanks; my father noted the huge “NO SMOKING” sign painted across the superstructure. “I hope the crew knows how to read English,” he said.

But we’ll mostly remember Azuero, which was as dirt cheap as it was genuine — it’s the only place I’ve ever seen ATMs give out dollar bills. After a $3.50 lunch one day in one of the fondas, or traditional restaurants, in Las Tablas, we spotted a little stand called La Heladera, one block north of the main plaza on Paseo Carlos Lopes. A woman sold what were clearly homemade desserts from a glass display case, and we pounced. Thirty-five cents got me a masmellena (from the Spanish “más me llena” – something like “It fills me up”), the Panamanian take on bread pudding; my mother had a gluten-free jam-filled merengue for 20 cents, and my dad had a coconut cake for 30 cents. I noticed that nowhere on La Heladera’s signage was there any boast of “artisanal” processes; there did not need to be.

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Talk to friends and former co-workers of Frank Beaumont and you’re likely to hear him described in a number of ways.

Charismatic, good-looking, smart, egotistical, bigger-than-life and even legendary are just some of the adjectives used to describe the career newspaperman.

Although he was many things to many people, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone describing him as boring or nondescript.

After a long and colorful life, Francis Joseph Beaumont wrapped up the final chapter of his story on Jan. 9, 2016, dying at the age of 84.

Born July 25, 1931, in Detroit to Joseph Beaumont and the former Cecilia O’Meara, he grew up in Lincoln Park and never strayed far from his hometown, at least not for long.

His sister, Mary Stitt of Taylor, recalls her brother as a teen working on the Railsplitter, the Lincoln Park High School newspaper. Before that, he delivered newspapers for the old Mellus Newspapers in Lincoln Park, where he landed one of his first full-time jobs after graduating from high school in 1949. His family said he was a journalist by the age of 18, and later held a number of executive positions at several area newspapers.

He either owned or served as a manager at publications and publishing companies that included Cavalier Communications, LTD; The Milan Area Leader; Glenn Printing Corp.; Panax Newspapers; and The News-Herald Newspapers, which at that time was based in Wyandotte.

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People who worked with or for Mr. Beaumont spoke about him in glowing terms, as a boss and co-worker.

“I owe Frank Beaumont a lot,” said Mary Ann Hammar, hired by Mr. Beaumont in June 1961, just two days after she graduated from high school. “He took me under his wing. I planned to be there only a few months. I did not believe in myself as much as he believed in me.”

Hammar was first hired part-time to work the switchboard, but later worked in the classified, circulation and production departments. She made The News-Herald her career, retiring in the early 1990s.

Although regular work hours were 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Hammar said on many occasions they would work late into the night to get the paper out and Mr. Beaumont would be right beside his employees, tie loosened around his neck and sleeves rolled up, until the job was done.

“He was very good to his employees,” she said. “Frank was The News-Herald.”

Charismatic leader

Pat Andrews, former editor of The News-Herald’s Focus section and a reporter early in her career, called Mr. Beaumont the most charismatic boss she ever had, saying he was like something out of a novel or movie.

Mr. Beaumont hired her in 1970 to work at The News-Herald and The Guardian. Like Hammar, Andrews recalls him working late into the night when deadlines demanded it.

There also was another side to Mr. Beaumont that was undeniable. He was a handsome man and a sharp dresser.

“Frank, very frankly, was a ladies’ man and he dressed the part and played the part with his spiffy outfits and a penchant for Cadillac cars,” Andrews said.

Yet, there was still more to him, she said.

When Andrews became pregnant with her third child in 1971, joining two other employees who also were expecting, she described Mr. Beaumont as “amused and fatherly,” encouraging the women to come to work as long as they felt healthy, assuring the trio that Wyandotte Hospital was a short trip away and his Cadillac was ready.

Andrews and several other people who worked with Mr. Beaumont recalled a paperback book of columns he wrote titled “Velvet and Brass.”

Retired journalist Joan Dyer-Zinner jokingly said the columns were a bit heavier on the brass side than velvet.

She referred to Mr. Beaumont as a bigger-than-life figure who was at the helm of The News-Herald when she joined the staff as a part-time typesetter in the late 1960s.

Because work was being done at the building, a converted car dealership just east of Fort Street on Eureka Road, Mr. Beaumont allowed female employees to wear slacks. Previously the dress code required women to wear dresses and skirts, with no exceptions.

In what Dyer-Zinner described as one of his more memorable columns, she recalls he grumbled about women wearing slacks.

“In the past, I used to tell women that their slips were showing,” he said. “and now I tell them their flies are open.”

She said he was both velvet and brass when dealing with his employees. He was well liked by the staff, but said he also wasn’t one to be trifled with.

Craig Farrand, a former managing editor at The News-Herald who still writes a column for the newspaper, first got to know Mr. Beaumont in the late 1970s. Farrand was at the old Mellus Newspapers when he learned Mr. Beaumont had been editor and publisher of The News-Herald in Wyandotte.

Over the years, Farrand said he got to know him a bit more each time they met, sharing stories about newspapers, mostly agreeing on the role of community newspapers in reporting issues of importance to area residents.

“Some said Frank’s public ego was huge - but I think you have to have a big ego to deal with the pressures of the job and the criticisms you get for the positions you take as a newspaper editor,” Farrand said. “But when he and I chatted about covering news, that ego came secondary to a love of community, of the profession and of his commitment to excellence.”

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The hours Sarah Rexford could have spent making her way from one dress shop to another have instead passed right where she is now, gingerly pushing a swatch of bright red fabric under the foot of a sewing machine. As the material surges forward, the needle slowly bobbing up and down, she keeps the pace consistent. The work needs to be perfect for the first formal gown she has ever made.

“The big thing now is to go out with your friends and find the dress,” she says, as she looks up from the machine. “Everyone who has gotten their dress is putting it up on Facebook. I can’t post mine yet.”

That’s because she still has to connect the bodice, which is receiving a seam, with the long flowing skirt that is pinned to a nearby dress form. There’s also the matter of the white sash, which needs to be made and beaded, and a red cape. But she is right on schedule. On Jan. 22, this one-of-a-kind frock will debut at the Red and White Charity Ball, one of two formal dances run by County Assemblies. Along with the County Assembly Charity Ball, these fundraisers are open to Fairfield, Weston, Westport and Wilton seniors and juniors, respectively.

Since September, Rexford, 17, a Fairfield Warde High School senior, has worked with designer Jennifer Butler in her Fairfield studio to create the kind of red-carpet dress Rexford has long admired. It’s based on a drawing she made in a summer fashion course at Marist College. The appeal of making the custom-everything dress of her dreams drives this aspiring fashion designer, as much as the opportunity to add to her portfolio of work.

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Rexford suspects, with her handmade dress, that she is in a distinct minority. It is only this afternoon that she learned fellow Fairfield resident Lili Minerva, 16, who also benefited from Butler’s help, created a purple-and-black formal dress (Minerva’s first), which she will debut at the County Assembly Jan. 23. “I guess I could have just gone and bought a dress, but it means so much more to work on it,” Rexford says.

Minerva’s dress is shaped by images from fashion magazines and blogs. “I wanted a more tight-fitting bodice that flowed into the skirt. ... I wanted the top to be on a slant, so one strap is shorter than the other. A flat top can be boring. You look boxy.” Modeling her dress, one can see the care she took in working the side zipper through bands of black that circle her waist. Her look of satisfaction reveals the reward of designing a dress from top to bottom, all sprung from her imagination. Would she be making her own shoes? She laughs. “No, I am going to go with some basic black ones.”

Sprinkled throughout Minerva’s closet are about a dozen handmade pieces, she says, including casual dresses, skirts, shirts and even a skort. The wool jacket she made this summer is a new addition, but it has yet to have its debut. “It got me really excited for the winter, but it’s been too warm to wear it.”

The two teens, who are in Fairfield Warde High School’s fashion design and merchandising program, are among a generation of young people who grew up with television’s “Project Runway,” soaked up looks and inspirations from fashion blogs and populated social media outlets that make fashion immediate and accessible. Stitch that together with a do-it-yourself ethic evidenced by millennials and those who are younger, and you’ve got growing interest in the art of sewing. Area sewing camps and summer workshops are busy, attracting children as young as 6. Continuing education programs draw beginning and lapsed sewers of all ages, and industry analysts predict a surging global market for sewing machines through 2020 as more people fill their leisure time with sewing.

Rexford and Minerva, who have been sewing since middle school, love the creative freedom that sewing affords them, from rooting through fabric shops for the perfect material to creating a custom pattern. It also offers a surprising side effect. “I’ve always liked how calming it is. It’s very relaxing. You can spend hours doing the same thing and not even realize it,” Rexford says.

The duo have not seen a wholesale shift into handmade clothes, but there appears to be more respect and fascination for the craft among their peers as they pass in the hall. “People will say, ‘I love your shirt. Where’d you get it?’ And I’ll say, ‘I made it,’” Minerva says.

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Talk to friends and former co-workers of Frank Beaumont and you’re likely to hear him described in a number of ways.

Charismatic, good-looking, smart, egotistical, bigger-than-life and even legendary are just some of the adjectives used to describe the career newspaperman.

Although he was many things to many people, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone describing him as boring or nondescript.

After a long and colorful life, Francis Joseph Beaumont wrapped up the final chapter of his story on Jan. 9, 2016, dying at the age of 84.

Born July 25, 1931, in Detroit to Joseph Beaumont and the former Cecilia O’Meara, he grew up in Lincoln Park and never strayed far from his hometown, at least not for long.

His sister, Mary Stitt of Taylor, recalls her brother as a teen working on the Railsplitter, the Lincoln Park High School newspaper. Before that, he delivered newspapers for the old Mellus Newspapers in Lincoln Park, where he landed one of his first full-time jobs after graduating from high school in 1949. His family said he was a journalist by the age of 18, and later held a number of executive positions at several area newspapers.

He either owned or served as a manager at publications and publishing companies that included Cavalier Communications, LTD; The Milan Area Leader; Glenn Printing Corp.; Panax Newspapers; and The News-Herald Newspapers, which at that time was based in Wyandotte.

People who worked with or for Mr. Beaumont spoke about him in glowing terms, as a boss and co-worker.

“I owe Frank Beaumont a lot,” said Mary Ann Hammar, hired by Mr. Beaumont in June 1961, just two days after she graduated from high school. “He took me under his wing. I planned to be there only a few months. I did not believe in myself as much as he believed in me.”

Hammar was first hired part-time to work the switchboard, but later worked in the classified, circulation and production departments. She made The News-Herald her career, retiring in the early 1990s.

Although regular work hours were 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Hammar said on many occasions they would work late into the night to get the paper out and Mr. Beaumont would be right beside his employees, tie loosened around his neck and sleeves rolled up, until the job was done.

“He was very good to his employees,” she said. “Frank was The News-Herald.”

Charismatic leader

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Pat Andrews, former editor of The News-Herald’s Focus section and a reporter early in her career, called Mr. Beaumont the most charismatic boss she ever had, saying he was like something out of a novel or movie.

Mr. Beaumont hired her in 1970 to work at The News-Herald and The Guardian. Like Hammar, Andrews recalls him working late into the night when deadlines demanded it.

There also was another side to Mr. Beaumont that was undeniable. He was a handsome man and a sharp dresser.

“Frank, very frankly, was a ladies’ man and he dressed the part and played the part with his spiffy outfits and a penchant for Cadillac cars,” Andrews said.

Yet, there was still more to him, she said.

When Andrews became pregnant with her third child in 1971, joining two other employees who also were expecting, she described Mr. Beaumont as “amused and fatherly,” encouraging the women to come to work as long as they felt healthy, assuring the trio that Wyandotte Hospital was a short trip away and his Cadillac was ready.

Andrews and several other people who worked with Mr. Beaumont recalled a paperback book of columns he wrote titled “Velvet and Brass.”

Retired journalist Joan Dyer-Zinner jokingly said the columns were a bit heavier on the brass side than velvet.

She referred to Mr. Beaumont as a bigger-than-life figure who was at the helm of The News-Herald when she joined the staff as a part-time typesetter in the late 1960s.

Because work was being done at the building, a converted car dealership just east of Fort Street on Eureka Road, Mr. Beaumont allowed female employees to wear slacks. Previously the dress code required women to wear dresses and skirts, with no exceptions.

In what Dyer-Zinner described as one of his more memorable columns, she recalls he grumbled about women wearing slacks.

“In the past, I used to tell women that their slips were showing,” he said. “and now I tell them their flies are open.”

She said he was both velvet and brass when dealing with his employees. He was well liked by the staff, but said he also wasn’t one to be trifled with.

Craig Farrand, a former managing editor at The News-Herald who still writes a column for the newspaper, first got to know Mr. Beaumont in the late 1970s. Farrand was at the old Mellus Newspapers when he learned Mr. Beaumont had been editor and publisher of The News-Herald in Wyandotte.

Over the years, Farrand said he got to know him a bit more each time they met, sharing stories about newspapers, mostly agreeing on the role of community newspapers in reporting issues of importance to area residents.

“Some said Frank’s public ego was huge - but I think you have to have a big ego to deal with the pressures of the job and the criticisms you get for the positions you take as a newspaper editor,” Farrand said. “But when he and I chatted about covering news, that ego came secondary to a love of community, of the profession and of his commitment to excellence.”

Rod Kreger, who served on the board of directors when his father, William Kreger, owned The News-Herald, said he and Mr. Beaumont were partners in a print operation in New Boston.

They became close friends and Kreger grew to admire Mr. Beaumont for his moxie.

He recalls that Mr. Beaumont once wrote an editorial questioning why an American Legion building in Wyandotte paid nothing in taxes. A short time later he was attacked by a group of men who roughed him up, which Kreger said wasn’t an easy accomplishment.

“People picked on him because he was a very good-looking guy, but he was very strong,” Kreger said. “He was a Golden Gloves boxer.

Kreger recalled a particular incident Hammar also mentioned, but with a slight variation.

Hammar said she was told that Mr. Beaumont, who was operating a newspaper known as The Daily Express at a time when The Detroit News and Detroit Free Press employees were on strike, was threatened by men who put a gun to his head.

Kreger said it was his understanding that two “business agents” from a union came into his Wyandotte office in 1967 and made veiled threats of running him off the road if he didn’t stop publishing the paper.

“He was physically fearless,” Kreger said. “We tend to embellish things to make him more of a hero, but I don’t think anyone actually threatened him with a gun. He was such an interesting guy. His interests were boundless.”

Downriver newspapers pioneer

Charlie Burns was hired as a salesman with The News-Herald shortly after he left the Marine Corps in the mid-1960s.

“Frank was very energetic and positive,” Burns said. “He was a pleasure to work with.”

Burns praised Mr. Beaumont for converting The News-Herald to offset printing, which was a new venture and a bit of a risk. Until that time, the traditional letterpress method was being used.

Out of 140 newspapers in Michigan, Mr. Beaumont was proud The News-Herald was the 17th in the state to make the switch.

“Everyone told him they would never make that work,” Burns said. “It was a big focal point that we made happen. The clarity of print and pictures was phenomenally greater. It’s one of his great accomplishments.”

In addition to his life as a civilian, Mr. Beaumont served in the Navy Reserve from 1968 to 1982 in public relations, at times coming to work in his Navy uniform while on duty.

Mr. Beaumont wasn’t a politician, but he did throw his hat into the ring in a big way in the early 1990s. He made an unsuccessful run for U.S. Congress when he went up against Democratic powerhouse John Dingell.

He retired from his life in newspapers in 1997.

When it came to marriage, Mr. Beaumont gave the institution several tries.

“He married young, at age 20, and that didn’t work out too well,” his sister said. “Then he tried it again. He wasn’t very lucky in marriage.”

That is to say until he married the former Judith Koehn in 1994. The couple lived in Grosse Ile and Gibraltar before moving to Belleville in May 2013.

A journalist at heart

Judith Beaumont described her late husband as a man of accomplishments whose colorful personality shone through in everything he did.

If he had a favorite color, it had to be red, his wife said, because he had a large collection of red pens that he used for making corrections to just about any printed matter he got his hands on.

In fact, that’s how their relationship started. They first met through a mutual acquaintance. She was the marketing director for an adolescent drug rehabilitation center and invited Mr. Beaumont to become a member of the Community Advisory Board. A week later she had the letter returned to her, with grammatical errors pointed out in red ink. At first, it didn’t go over very well.

“Who in the hell does this guy think he is?” she recalled saying to herself.

But things worked out between them, as they were married for 21 years.

Even though his wife said they shared a great love, she knew there was a love that came before her and lasted until his dying day.

“The News-Herald was his first love,” she said. “I was his second.”

Mr. Beaumont spent his final weeks in a nursing home. Two days before he died, Beaumont said her husband kept mumbling: “How many days?”

She thought he was asking about how many days he had been at the nursing facility, but it turns out he had something else in mind.

“I got out the word ‘published’,” she said. “Even though he was dying, he thought about that damn paper. It was his whole world.”

Mr. Beaumont had two children, Norman “Skip” Beaumont and Yvette Beaumont. He also was the stepfather of Scott Neinas and grandfather to four children.

In addition to his sister, Mary, he is survived by two sisters, Edna Banick and Yvonne Beaumont. He was preceded in death by his stepdaughter, Dawn Gentz, and brothers William, Albert and Daniel Beaumont.

On ‘beautiful’ funerals

As might be expected from a man who had an opinion about everything, Mr. Beaumont wrote about funerals. He wasn’t a huge fan.

In one of his columns he wrote about how strange it seems for people to take time out of their busy schedules to drive to a funeral home and pay last respects to a departed friend.

“It’s strange because we’ve wasted a lot of time without once going out of our way to drop by and just chat with him when he was alive,” he wrote. “I’d like to be buried the day after I die in a pine box without flowers. Some say that’s stoic; some say it’s stupid. Meanwhile, I’ll keep leading a life like a cavalry charge, following the customs and extending the courtesies society has decreed proper when death visits.”

His family didn’t bury him in a pine box, but followed his wishes that a formal viewing of his body not take place. His sister said his remains were cremated and will be buried along with his parents’ remains at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Southfield.

A private memorial took place Jan. 16, 2016, at the Holiday Inn Express in Belleville. The service was conducted by his friend, Brad Thomas, a Lutheran deacon.

The family suggests memorial contributions in Mr. Beaumont’s name be made to the Alzheimer’s Association, Greater Michigan Chapter, 25200 Telegraph Road, Suite 100, Southfield, MI 48033.

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