Went for a bit of shopping today. Having rigorously followed the LCHF eating regime, I’ve had to invest a small fortune in new clothes, since most of the old ones have simply gotten too big for me. Must admit this does not bother me too much though… :-). However, what does bother me, is that even if you are a size 6, age sets the limits for what you can wear.
To make a long story short: in a crammed fitting room today, I noticed that my legs just aren’t what they used to be. No matter how much yoga, running or what-lates I’ve been doing during the past 20 years, age is still starting to take its toll and this season’s must-haves, the micro-shorts, cannot (even with the best of intentions) be worn by a woman my age. As I put the feisty denims back on the shelf and told the 15-something sales girl that they weren’t quite my thing, I realized that I’m now officially the kind of customer who asks: Do you have anything in knee-length? Gulp.
Also, I’m noticing an alarming urge to wear clothes and shoes that are comfortable. The old me would have laughed her head off at such a silly notion, because we all know that good-looking and comfortable seldom goes hand-in-hand.
Just to spite this, I went ahead and bought a pair of six-inch heels. Hah! There you go, I can still do it. Or not? All I have to do now is actually walk in them. Which might be easier said than done, considering that my feet are usually spoiled with steady sneakers and sturdy boots.
But what lengths wouldn’t a woman go to just to prove she’s still got it. What, you ask? Well, I suppose it’s a mental state more than anything else: the feeling of NOT having become your grandma.