Looking Good, but Humble

That's me, taken a few minutes ago. I look like I'm stuffed up and miserable because I am. It's August when the ragweed blooms and I sneeze. Today has been particularly rough. I took so many drugs that I ended up zzzing out on the couch for a couple of hours. Sure hope the boys didn't need me during that time!

I like clothes. I enjoy shopping for them, accessorizing them, and (thankfully for the rest of you) wearing them. What can I say - I'm a girl! And it's probably because of this that I inwardly cringe when I see frumpy women my age. You know which ones I'm talking about. They usually have a handful of kids and make it appear that there are no mirrors in their house. Their hair is frizzed out with split ends and dark roots. A lot of times their clothes don't fit well and don't go together. Sometimes they're a good ten years out of date. That may sound a bit harsh and I don't mean it to. I have a few friends that fall into this category. I can't help but notice their appearance, but I don't hold it against them. The thing is - it's not necessary to be this way. It's very possible to dress nicely and have enough clothing on a shoestring budget. I know this because my clothing budget is definitely shoestring-like!

As I have gotten older I have come to realize that my style preference is that of "classic." I'm not real big on showing off large expanses of skin and I like classy looks - blazers, fitted tops, solid colors, etc. It's probably my mom's influence more than anything. They do say you turn into your mother after a period of time. But because of that I find myself shopping more and more at stores like Penneys, Kohls and Christopher and Banks - nice, moderately-priced stores. Wednesday I was in Christopher and Banks and I was so excited to find a long denim skirt! I have been searching for one for over a year now. I bought it full price, which is something I rarely do. But I didn't want this one to get away. So as I'm checking out, the clerk, who was probably in her early twenties, if that, says to me, "Oh, I recognize your top!" I was wearing a clearance rack buy I had found at the beginning of this week at the same store. I laughed and said, "You'd probably recognize a lot of my wardrobe!" She then replied, "Yeah - my mom, too!"

Whoa! That took me aback. I'm supposed to be a young-looking, stylish football mom. I'm the one that people are always surprised to hear has a teenaged son (a fact that give me an inordinate amount of pleasure, I have to admit). But apparently, I'm little older than I thought! So as I left the store, my back was a little more hunched, my steps a little more measured. I'm getting older, there's nothing I can do about it, and now the younger generation classifies me as their mom's peer. Life is sad...

Actually, the only thing sadder would be if I was trying to look younger. You've all seen those women - skin like leather from laying out for the past 35 years, bleached blond hair held high up on their head in a pony tail, short denim skirt, harsh make-up, and a voice like gravel from the cigarettes they've sucked down since they were 12. Now that is sad. Next to that, I still have the dew of youth glistening on my unlined skin!