Fall Clothes

I went clothes shopping this past weekend, for some winter things. You know. Sweaters, skirts, boots. I went to the usual places, Crew, Banana Republic, Anthropology. And guess what? They were not appropriate!

Not only did nothing fit, or if it did fit didn’t REALLY fit, or it was too young. TOO YOUNG??? Shish. How in the world did that happen?

Everything I tried on was like an age magnifier. All of those gauzy, lacy tops with puff sleeves? Forget about it… all they did was enhance the wrinkles and puffy parts of my face, not to mention the neck that seems to forever be awaiting Thanksgiving. THAT needs covering. So instead of purchasing something airy and feminine, something that wants to float about in wispy clouds of silky fabric I bought, as usual, a black turtleneck sweater. But, this time it’s silk and cotton. Something new!

I tried on skirts only to have tears well up in my eyes as I quickly glanced at myself in the dressing room mirror. Those are my legs? I thought to myself. Those? Why, they’re pudgy. When had that happened? Granted it was a shorter skirt, to the knee. Not above mind you, but a nice sensible length. But it didn’t matter. Nor did the longer mid-calf one I had tried on next. It just looked super dowdy.

Then on to pants. Trousers are what people my age should wear I thought. Not skin tight jeans. No, not anymore. I tried on some nice pants and just stood there staring at myself in that very same mirror. Unbelievable. I could still wear the same size as before, but everything had shifted! I seemed to be looking at a gunny sack filled with flour, sporting a pair of high water pants. They’re for boots, the sales girl said (very professional she was too). You pull boots over the pants. That’s why they’re tight at the ankle and so short.

Well. First of all I never do that. Would never tuck pants into my boots. And second of all who could they have been made for anyway? Not me. It seems younger woman have smaller bellies, and larger posteriors than I. Ummm. So big bellies and flat behinds are what people my age develop. Well. It could be true.

That’s one of the things that made me love Catherine. She has allowed herself to have some meat on her bones. A lot of meat. And she looks great. Her clothes are tailored and simple and elegant. She doesn’t need to fight her aging with youthful duds but rather enhances the elegance of an older woman which can be beautiful.

That’s the tough lesson these days as I balance on the edge of youth-gone-by and maturity. I still feel myself to be young but I’m not. I have to accept the fact that no one will turn their head as I walk by, or flirt with me in some social situation. No. Not anymore. I have to replace that vacant place in myself with the confidence of age, of having lived through the various cycles of time gaining what I now know to be wisdom and plain old common sense. And it’s not bad. Not bad at all. At least as long as there’s a role model such as Catherine to illuminate ones way.

Oh. And by the way. I ended up with that black turtleneck sweater, a black v-neck cardigan, and a cashmere pullover in sea foam green! It looks smashing with my silver hair…