I saw in the news today that Tamara Dobson died this week due to complications from multiple sclerosis. If you grew up in the 70s as I did, you'll remember Ms. Dobson. Maybe not by her stage name, but by her screen persona: Cleopatra Jones. Between her and Pam Grier, these were my power women role models. They took guff from no one, they strode the streets like they owned them, and they rebuffed advances with a well place stiletto planted squarely in a man's chest. They were glamorous and confident. I wanted to be Foxy Brown. I wanted to wear hot pants and a feather boa and take down the drug dealers with a quick extraction of the shiv tucked between my cleavage.

Girls growing up in the 70s had very conflicted role models to choose from. To my young eyes, there seemed two extremes: docile girlishness or hardcore feminist. There was the dreadful Marabel Morgan, she of "The Total Woman" fame. This was the infamous book that suggested women subjugate themselves exclusively to men and sport Saran Wrap to greet their husbands with their evening martini. Conversely, there were amazing women like Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan. There were "could go either way" role models like "Charlie's Angels" and "Three's Company" and Cher. Yet, none of these inspired me like the characters of Cleopatra Jones, Foxy Brown, Christie Love and Sheba Baby. These were women who were strong, confident and respected by men, yet they commanded authority without ever compromising their femininity, sexuality and flamboyant fashion sense.

My mother, a liberated woman in her own right, also practiced this compromise, although in a much more white, middle class kind of way. She had a career and she heartily endorsed women's rights. She always encouraged me to go after anything I wanted, regardless of perceived walls or glass ceilings. She ordered me to ardently pursue my career goals, to take life on my own terms and to never surrender one's goals and desires for a man. She particularly insisted that I always pay for my half of the bill on a date otherwise "you may have to put out." I've stayed true to her directions in my life so far. However, I will admit, even when I did pay half the bill, I sometimes did put out...but only because I wanted to. Christie Love would have done the same thing.

I have an old Cleopatra Jones t-shirt in my drawers somewhere. I'll have to dig it out to wear tomorrow, if anything, to honor the memory of a truly treasured role model.