Today’s Featured Comment
From Ronna Snyder:
“Look in the mirror” isn’t particularly good advice to aging people who don’t keep “fresh eyes.” In other words, they haven’t educated their visual palate to what’s “current” and what’s “frumpy old-school.”
It took me letting the girls into my “inner sanctum,” my closet, to figure that out.
A couple weeks ago, I tried on almost everything I own for them and got either a thumbs up or a thumbs down. They were merciless. And bluntly honest. “Whoa, 500 lb. woman!” my DIL roared when I came out in my brand new Nordstrom vanilla slacks that I’d yet to have the guts to wear. (Ok, so back in my twenties, when I was actually a professional model, I rocked the all-vanilla outfits! But, like I said, my “eye” needed an upgrade!)
The pile of “un-approved” was far higher than the “approved” still hanging in my closet. (I took those to a homeless shelter and the gals loved my stuff!)
Then we went shopping. I mean HARD CORE. As in jeans-shopping at The Buckle. I thought I’d die. Literally took a half a Xanax I was so freaked out at trying to find cool looking jeans with my girls watching on. ”Calm down, Mom,” my daughter soothed. “You are going to try to on 20 pair to find one pair that fits perfect. We do it all the time.” They are both size fours and 5’8″ and the fact that trying on jeans is, well, aerobic exercise for them, comforted me. I obeyed. And eventually rocked a pair MissMe jeans that instantly peeled ten years off my body, my wardrobe AND my mental attitude! I was hooked but winced at the hundred dollar price tag. ”You have no choice,” my bossy daughter said heading towards the cash register, “I’m buying these jeans for you!” I teared up. Not because I can’t afford hundred dollar jeans. But because here was my daughter acting all grown-up on me and teaching me a thing or two about my value AND my looks! And then I smiled. And didn’t stop smiling for days after that. :)
At the next store, Plato’s Closet, a chain store of consignment clothes that have a young slant and tiny price tags, unbeknownst to me, the two played a little game. They brought me top after top. (Probably 50 in all.) Whoever brought me the MOST items that “worked” got a point for each top and was the winner. Who knew dressing me could be a competitive event?!
I walked out of there with a ginormous bag and an entire new wardrobe.
Since then, I’ve received more compliments than I’ve had in the past couple years, demonstrating to me that I really HAD kind of lost my middle-age-mojo and didn’t even realize it. A male acquaintance of my husband’s recently called me a “trophy wife”. Not bad for 60 years of age and 36 years of marriage! :)
[This comment was first posted a part of this conversation. ~ Eds.]