The Art of Aging - Part 1

 

Can we talk?   Next year I will be 50 and I have been thinking about the aging process.  Let's explore the good and bad things about aging and how running a half-marathon is not in my future.  Today, let's look at the good things about aging.

 

Could someone please bring this lady a sandwich?  Or a ham?

 

 I am spending less and less money at Sephora on make-up.  Truthfully,  I am spending no money at Sephora.  I'm not sure why this happened.  Maybe it's because I never reapply my lipstick after 6:45 AM.  Most of my lipstick immediately adheres to my Starbucks cup and stays there.  It is an easy way to tell my cup from other people's cup.  Personally, I am in awe of people who remember to reapply their lipstick after lunch.   

 

I recently did buy three different colors of blush from the Clinique counter.  The Clinique guy taught me how to sweep the blush on in layers so I could enjoy the fleeting illusion of cheekbone.  I am not sure I am applying it right.  My cheeks have more of the eighties "blush stripes" than sexy definition. I was hoping to look like I was skipping my mid-morning snack.  Maybe I need another lesson from the Clinique guy?   (I won't get into the anxiety surrounding a guy teaching me how to put on make-up.  I know this is archaic thinking, but it is like having a guy measure me for a bra.) 

 

 

Hey James!  Thank you for letting your audience sit during your concerts.  You rock, man!

I can be in my jammies by 6:45 PM and not feel obligated to go "out." "Out" used to mean going somewhere to see a band, standing until 12:15 AM, shouting at people to be heard over the music, and going home with beer bloat.  Ugh. I only want to see James Taylor, since I can just sit there, sing along in my head, order a Dixie cup full of Chardonnay, and be home by 10:15.  Nowadays, it seems like everyone wants to go "out" and stencil things on barn boards.  Sometimes I worry about myself, because I have no desire to record when my family was established on a barn board. 

 

 

 

 

I no longer wash my hair everyday.  I used to dutifully start every morning washing/conditioning my hair.  Then I would juggle a round brush, hairdryer, and cuppa coffee for about 35 minutes.  Granted, this did account for some nice definition in my triceps, but who wants to do this everyday when someone has invented dry shampoo?  I now have lunches to make, green smoothies to blend, and podcasts to listen to.  Day 3 of dry shampoo isn't pretty, but I don't care enough to get in the shower and actually wash my hair.

 

I told you, Stacy and Clinton.  Me in a pencil skirt is not a pretty sight.

I can easily ignore those lists of "What Not to Wear When You are Over 40."  (There is probably some 26 year old guy writing these lists.)  Red lipstick, leopard print and short sleeves continue to be part of my life.  I have spent years figuring out my style and I am not going to start over because someone is uncomfortable looking at my arms.  These lists tell women in their forties to wear crisp white button downs, fitted navy blazers, and pencil skirts.  Really?  I have made it to 49 and now have to worry about keeping button down shirts crisp and clean?  No thanks.

 

 

Finally, I have stopping caring about what others think of me.  I embrace the statement, "What you think of me is none of my business."  Let me clarify that I am not one of those people who blurt out insane things because they can.  (I think that happens when you turn 68 or something.)  I don't say things like:  I never understood why you were known for your baked beans.  To me they taste like nasty little bullets.  OR  Those poems you are always writing and reading out loud?  Well.  Maybe they should just stay private, in your notebook. 

What are you noticing about aging?  Next time, we will explore the downsides of aging. 

 

Prairie Eydie