On Getting Older
I need to face the facts. I am getting older. As much as I have wanted to delay and deny it, age is creeping up on me and there is pretty much nothing I can do to stop it. I mentioned recently that we got a new minivan. Well, here is another first. I actually shopped for and bought some items at a store that weren’t part of the juniors section. *sigh* This was a hard thing for me. For a long time I have shied away from the misses sections because I just haven’t felt ready to dress that “old.” But after several excursions to the juniors section with a baby in tow, I decided that maybe I am just a little out of place there. Crop-tops don’t look so great on my belly full of post-baby stretch marks either.
So I begrudgingly tried out the misses section. I was pleasantly surprised to find several sweaters AND a pair of jeans that are not dowdy or too mom-ish. At least, I think so. Or maybe my old-age blinders have got me confused and befuddled.
However, in spite of finding a few choice items in the misses section though, I am still frustrated at the overall selection. I had to sift through a lot of items to find stuff I liked, as so many of the clothing items were so not fashionable. Where in the world can a late 20-something person shop and still feel trendy? I am not the most fashion-conscious person in the world, but I still want to look my age. Sure, I am a mom, but I am not that old. I still have a few good years left.
I don’t want to be like the Mom Jeans skit (my favorite skit of all time) from Saturday Night Live, which states,
“I’m not a woman any more. I’m a Mom.”