I have a friend. Well, not just any friend - she's probably one of my most favorite people ever. She's an amazing person, and the most amazing thing of all is that she became who she is without the help, guidance and support of parents; something that most of us have without ever realizing its true value.

She was born to a couple in turmoil who were too distracted to recognize the wonderful gift they had been given. And they didn't know, or maybe they just forgot, that small children are delicate creatures that need love, affection, and constant positive reinforcement. They didn't know that children will believe the message that the grownups in their lives give them; that if they are treated as an afterthought or an inconvenience, they may forever believe that that is so. And that if they see that there is love to be had, but none of it seems to drift down toward them, they may always believe that they didn't deserve it in the first place.

This little girl gazed up at the world in wide-eyed wonder, as children will. She watched from a quiet little corner as her parents fought and hurt each other. She played with her dolls to the tune of yelling and spite. And then one day, her father left, taking her sisters with him, but leaving her behind. He forgot to tell her that he wanted her with him too, and then her mother neglected to mention that she was happy to keep her. And life went on, a little quieter than before, but never quite right. Then one day the grownups in this little girl's life decided that their problems were bigger than her, and they sent her far, far away.

To possibly be continued...

I have had a generational/old folks’/fashion epiphany. What was once a mystery is now all too clear.

When you were a teen, did you ever look at people in their mid-thirties and up and think, “Man, why don’t old people dress better?” I did. I’d be like, “OMG, look at those pants, they’re not even ROLLED UP. Fold and roll, honey, fold and roll.” Or, “Geez, that woman would be so much better looking in stirrup pants. I will never let myself go like that.” Or, “Why, why, WHY must that guy tuck his shirt in like that?” And then finally, and more common than you might think, “What is UP with those socks???” Looking at this sad state of affairs, this befuddled group of old-timers, this other species, this club I never planned to be a part of, I would wonder when they stopped caring.

But now I get it.

I look around now and I see young people who were born in the mid-80’s, the EIGHTIES, folks, who are already out at clubs, they drink, they smoke, they have jobs, and I suspect that some of them might even be having SEX!! As of this month, my birthday month, as in the month I turned old as the hills, I see them prancing about in the “latest” thing, those very same rolled up hems, stirrup pants and leg warmers with high heels. They have no idea, no clue, that this shit already happened once before, and it wasn’t good back then either. They probably look at me in my simple, to-the-floor jeans that I bought 2.5 years ago, my outlet top (‘Who cares if it’s from last season, it’s ON SALE!’), and my comfy flip-flops, and think, “Gawd, that outfit is so YESTERDAY.” Here’s what they don’t know, and what I, having just entered the 35-and-over club, am now qualified to tell them: We really DON’T care (gasp!). It’s true. We have seen it all before, and we are not impressed. And here’s why it’s good:

1. Our clothes last longer than a 2-month fashion season. In spring, when those pretty little pink leg warmers have been cut in half and are being used to sop up the jungle juice your roommate spilled on the kitchen floor, I will be strolling serenely around in the same jeans you see me in right now.

2. We don’t experience that flush of shame if we look around and realize that we are the only ones in the room NOT wearing the thing, you know, that THING that just came out yesterday. OMG, how did we miss it, we should’ve been keeping up with Britney/Paris/Nicole news, what were we THINKING? No, these are thoughts that don’t go through our heads, and this makes the dues we pay to be in this club all the more worth it.

3. Shopping need not be a full time job. While you are out three times a week anxiously looking for the latest thing, our hands are free to do other, better stuff. Important stuff. What stuff? Stop asking. You’ll know what it is when the time comes. And when we do shop, we buy better clothes, too, cuz WE HAVE MONEY. Yes. It’s true. Enjoy your Forever 21’s, your Rampages and your Wet Seals. I’ll be at those other stores. No, not the ones your mom shops at!

4. We are COMFORTABLE. You know what I’m talking about. Yes, you do. You’re not going to tell me you’re comfortable in that getup. Do I look like I was born yesterday?

The point of all this? No point, really. It was only supposed to be about legwarmers and stirrup pants. Except that I have realized that it’s a trade-off. A trade-off of a little bit of youth for a little bit of clarity. All those little hangups, that need to be ‘with it,’ that distracting white noise in the back of your mind, it all sort of fades away with each year, only rearing its coifed little head in moments of nostalgic magazine flipping and people watching at a club or mall… Nowadays for me it’s about dressing for my mood and not this season’s whim, caring less about keeping up with the Britneys and more about just putting on what I want, and not having to think about it too much. Really, being comfortable in what I’m wearing and in my own skin.

But then, these are just the confused ramblings of a dowdy old fogey… ;)