Aging & Attitude
I never wore an itsy bitsy teeny-weeny yellow polka dot bikini. I wore a one piece swimsuit with a zipper up the back that I could swim in. I loved that pink and white plaid bathing suit. A darker pink piping set off the waist, and it was fully lined. That was during my teenage years when we swam down at Puffy’s creek or at Jones beach on Long Island.
I never owned a Rabbit fur coat. I had a fake Leopard fur coat bought on sale in Macy’s department store. The large collar and hem trimmed in black fake fur. This Bo Derek style outer wear was stored in a clothing closet and admired when I opened the closet door, too good too be worn.
I never owned a London Fog trench coat. I wore a navy blue raincoat with an empire waist and hood, purchased at Lerner’s. I had black patent leather go-go rain boots and kept dry with a bubble umbrella. I have a picture, taken at the Bronx Zoo, of myself wearing this outfit, and remember feeling quite pleased with my look including the shag wig, I wore.
I never wore jeans, stirrup pants were my favorite, and proud to be the first to wear bell-bottoms, in my dorm. These orange pants coordinated with a gold and orange box plaid mini-skirt and a matching gold crepe blouse. The blouse had flounce sleeves with military buttons on the cuffs, and a wrap around neck sash that tied in a bow. I can picture the outfit in Alexander’s store window on Fordham road in the Bronx and still smile.
I never avoided looking in a mirror, til now. The reflection is unrecognizable and I hear myself saying, “Why does that woman look so familiar?” aloud, and realizing it is me, worry about Alzheimer’s.
I never thought I’d wear elastic waist pants, funny hats or moan getting up from a chair.
I never thought myself good-looking, was never boastful, conceited, or big-headed, but loved those outfits and the way they made me feel.
Damn, I guess it is too late to be vain.
. . . Just Saying