of appropriateness have actually turned into a LIST of questions
Should I stop wearing shorts?
What about sleeveless blouses?
When should I stop dying it?
Should I do something about my wrinkles?
quandary is a tough one for me. Its on the top of my list
for good reason.
Lord knows I dont have the legs I used to. Not even close. Somehow all of my beautiful taut thigh skin has loosened up and is now gathering all-wrinkley-elephant-like around my knees. The old buttocks isnt riding as proudly as it used to. Cellulite is blooming in some very dishonorable places.
trust a mirror (or maybe its my perception of what I see
in the mirror that I cant trust). Sometimes the reflection is
horrifying to me, other times I feel Im pulling it off just
fine. I should just toss the stupid looking glass and risk the
seven years bad luck.
Heres the problem with giving up shorts - I love hiking and biking. I adore feeling comfortable and I abhor being hot. Im not so vain that Ill start wearing a burqa while hiking, but I must admit there's some exhibition anxiety while standing in line at the post office after arriving by bike.
my loss of comfort become less imperative than the comfort of
the leg-looking-at public? I try to use my own reaction to others'
exposed skin as a barometer. But, again, I get mixed results.
I admire the healthy sixty-something lady at Yellowstone in her
cute khakis, shudder when I see someone with cut-off sweats riding
high in the butt crack.
Short sleeves fall into this same category. A friend of mine calls those lovely gal-flaps under her arms Hey Judys! As a child, my friend spied a tourist lady in a large hat frantically flagging down her buddy, Judy, and bringing about quite a bit of upper arm wobbling. That kind of thing sticks with a kid.
In my not-so-trusty mirror I'm seeing some Hey Judy! action of my own happening. For some reason, my upper arm area is not so bad when I look directly at it, but photos can go either way. It really sucks. Im torn between going all-out-Grandma-floral-muumuu and the trendier, more comfy summer tank.
Neither seems appropriate.
Must I have Michelle Obama arms to go sleeveless? I love that our First Lady has opened the door for women my age to wear the style, but maybe she could loosen up and go just a bit Hey Judy! for the masses? ;)
As for the
too old for long hair predicament, ever since my mid-twenties
Ive been dreading the day that Id have to cut my hair
short. Ive always had long hair. The few times Ive
cut it to shoulder length I immediately regretted it. I love the
ease of throwing it into a ponytail and getting on my merry way
Then there are the dreaded wrinkles. I absolutely HATE my worry line. The crease between my eyebrows looks more and more like the Grand Canyon everyday. I spend an increasing amount of time pulling up the skin on my forehead and admiring myself as I would look with a brow lift.
Lets face it, this is a two-faced dilemma for women of our generation if there ever was one. We, as a society, admire the youthful looking women we see, yet admonish them for the plastic surgery theyve had. We need to be kinder to each other about our personal choices.
Ive googled what a brow lift entails. Its pretty scary. Until something is discovered that doesnt involve facial detachment, Im going to have to pass. Unless I change my mind. (BUT, I did end up trying Botox - don't judge me until you read this!)
The mirror being the liar that it is, I started asking around for advise. This, too, was conflicting and unhelpful.
My daughter, The Piglet: I think its up to the woman and what she is personally comfortable with. (Nice sentiment, but unhelpful to someone who has no idea WHAT she is comfy with).
My daughter, Decibel: Why the hell do you care so much? (Oh, just you wait missy!)
David: Ill be really pissed if you get plastic surgery. Other than that, Ill love you no matter what. (Hes really good at dodging does-this-make-my-butt-look-big traps, so his opinion doesnt count in this matter, but it's sweet nonetheless.)
Even after Googling these various subjects, I find myself in very conflicted territory. Opinions range wildly - everywhere from the you've-come-a-long-way-baby / you-go-girl tribe condoning a let-it-all-hang-out lifestyle, to the more conservative clan that uses words like grace and class. Once again, I fall firmly into neither camp.
Maybe I should just chuck the mirror, stop harassing my loved ones, ditch Google and give up.
The stress of it all is giving me hot flashes.
YOUR TURN: Are you as conflicted as I am? Any advice?
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