I needed a frock for an upcoming event, so, despite the fact shopping for anything but books, groceries, and greeting cards gives me hives, I hit the stores.
After trying on twenty-one dresses, two skirts, and three evening jackets, I slipped into a dress I didn't hate when I looked in the mirror. The saleswoman, who'd already proven her worth with remarks such as, "No," accompanied by a pained expression. "Not right," followed by a shake of her head, and "That jacket's wearing you," looked at me and nodded. "Good."
Reader, I bought it.
Later, at home, I tried it on for my husband. Am I the pathetic, insecure type who needs outside validation when it comes to clothing choices? Yes
Hubs blinked, cleared his throat, blinked some more. He's of the If you can't say something nice, don't say anything, school. I know that, yet I pressed.
"You think it's an old lady dress, don't you?"
More blinking and throat clearing. "I think the dress is age appropriate."
How many times had I used "age appropriate" to convince then-teen daughters to change out of what looked like hooker clothes? Karma's got a long memory, and she insists on payback.
I'm not returning the dress but might take up the hem an inch or two. What's more, I'm now determined to buy a pair of four-inch heels—from Rockport, a company usually associated with thick-soled walking shoes. The heels come with a thirty-day "walkability" guarantee. How age appropriate is that?
Have you done/bought anything age inappropriate recently?