Nov 10 2008
Fashion Plate
When I was a teenager I made a solemn vow to myself that I would always be at the height of fashion. I would wear the “in” clothes. I would sport the latest hairstyle. The length of my skirt would always be runway fresh. My look, in general, would always belie my advancing age.
As I so often say, “With age comes wisdom.” As I grew older, I grew wiser. I developed my own style. For the most part I am very comfortable with that style. Am I “in style?” I haven’t a clue. I suspect not. I see clothes on younger people that are an embarrassment to me. I see tattoos and piercings that appear to be remnants of torture. Most astounding to me, I see women going bare-legged in skirts and heels. UGH!! The concept of my bare foot sticking to the inner sole of my pumps makes my flesh crawl.
Okay, we can all agree I’m not “in style.” But, today, in my Evan Picone suit, flesh colored hose, 2-inch pumps and Liz Claiborne purse, I look good enough to feel good about my look. And there is the accomplishment. I am an adult.
