Sunday, September 30, 2012

Okay, my birthday week/month is officially over. I can now put to rest the joy and horror of turning sixty years old. How can that be? Sixty? I remember when my grandmother turned sixty. She went from being fairly fashionable to wearing ankle socks with her wedge sandals. Don't expect that from me any time soon.

If I were to put together a time capsule; what would it look like? I believe that I'd put the load of cards wishing me a great day and poking a little fun at me too. Maybe I'd even include pictures of the trip to New York that my daughter and I took just last week. The delight in our faces of being together is very telling. Years from now, I hope, we will look at them and remember us, not so much the place.

Now, back to those shoes. I love shoes and handbags. The New York city trip was a feast of both. I watched as very sophisticated girls and women hobbled along with boots and high heels on that made me wince just to see them. If anyone wants to know what I think will be the best career in the future; I'll tell them that podiatry is looking very promising. How can they wear those vehicles of pain? Handbags don't pose the same threat. I think that I'll stick to those. Shoes? I have more than enough to ride out the next trend.

I have several very style-concerned friends. Me? I think that I must be style-challenged. At my now ripe old age, I tend to go for comfort and color.I love to wear colorful clothes. Scarves are a way to add a "pop" of color the magazines tell us.  My friends can wear their scarves in any number of trendy ways. I look like I have a goiter growing fangs! Getting the knack of tying those things is beyond me, I guess. I'll have to be content to fold and re-fold those beautiful sheets of silk and wool while imagining them chicly knotted around my ever-widening neck. Of course, having a couple of chins on top of them is not too pretty either. Oh well, maybe before the end of this trend, I'll figure it out. Maybe they should go into the aforementioned time capsule.

At any rate, the week/month celebration has left me contemplative. Being sixty has not provided me with any new insight. I don't feel any older. Isn't age just a number after all?   I say that and feel quite smug when I do. However, I pick up a magazine or watch TV (when I can figure out how to operate the damn thing) and see the younger version of me and my friends and think, maybe my grandmother was on to something.Screw the style, my feet are happy and so am I.




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