You know you’re at peace with yourself and the universe if you can enter a crowded social function, scan the room, and then join the group creating the most laughter. After a certain age, you don’t waste time with pseudo-intellectuals, plastic-faced divas, or over-styled drama queens; especially if they’re your relatives. Just trot your sensible, low-heeled shoes over to those having fun and then laugh until you snort.
Over the years, most women have endured numerous charity galas, corporate soirees, and elegant events that required dressing in more than a “This Wine is Making me Awesome” t-shirt, Yoga pants, and flip-flops (my favorite outfit.) In our twenties and thirties, we started preparing weeks in advance; trying on various outfits, scheduling hair and nail appointments, and crash dieting to lose a few pounds. By our forties, the routine became less rigorous unless the occasion was a dinner party with our boss or a romantic evening with a significant other. Usually, those events did not involve the same person.
By age 50, however, we said screw the rules. We gauged the importance of an event by the need to shave our legs or not. What to wear came down to what garment would hide last week’s lasagna binge. There was a time when identical outfits would have caused one of us to retreat to the coat closet and desperately paw for something to throw over our shoulders. Now if I’m attending a fancy function and see another woman wearing a replica of my dress, I congratulate her on her exquisite taste. If she’s over 50, she’ll laugh and say, “Got it on sale for only $150!” We high-five and sashay to the wine bar.
Another scene to avoid forever is the Sugar Daddy with Arm Candy couple. She’ll be giggling about play dates and nannies and he’ll be sweating and adjusting his pacemaker. If the hostess seats you next to such a twosome, feign a sudden onset of gastrointestinal flu and discreetly find another table, preferably with a middle-age couple who are holding hands and laughing. It doesn’t matter if they came together.
High fashion is not my top priority. I usually wear classic, quality clothes that have timeless appeal, such as my favorite 10-year-old St. John knit jackets. They cost a fortune new but I’ve worn them for years and they always look good. And, I’m a strong advocate of the simple black dress adorned with fun accessories. And there is no way these well-traveled feet will ever again feel the inside of a high-heeled shoe. That just won’t happen because high-heels are painful and I choose not to hurt. An elongated calf perched on a $300 strip of leather just doesn’t matter that much.
While laughing with new and old friends at a society event, it’s tempting to sneak a peek at the younger, more perfect women. They arrive with a flair of confidence, pause to pose on their six-inch heels, and jut their tiny, sequin-covered bodies into the spotlight. Yes, they are proud of their flat-stomachs, bobbing cleavages, and toned arms. Their hair, makeup, and nails are flawless, and heads turn in appreciation. I immediately start humming “The Girl from Ipanema.”
When she walks, she’s like a samba
That swings so cool and sways so gentle
That when she passes, each one she passes
Goes “A-a-a-h.”
I never was that woman, not even on my most magnificent occasion. But, I’m finally happy in my own skin, every wrinkled, spotted inch of it. I’d much rather be with the witty group, the ones who are telling humorous stories, and the ones who know that Ipanema Girl someday will be fifty. Then she, too, will know that funny is fashionable.
I couldn’t agree more. Why stand around talking about Syria at a party? Ain’t nobody got time for dat.
You are so correct, Linda. And if I sense a volatile discussion about to explode, I’ll amble over to the wine bar.
Dear Elaine,
You made my morning! Thank you. I am chuckling loudly. I was never that woman either. Or maybe I was in my young years, but growing up in the shadow of the Twiggy fashion rage I was haunted by the never thin enough stinkin thinkin in my mind.
Thank you for another glorious story!
Good Morning, Susan. I remember the Twiggy era – I’m way too fond of food and drinks.
I’m so with you. Why can’t we wear more yoga pants to galas? That’s what I want to know.
Pre-kids, I remember taking 60 minutes to get ready in the morning, that was cut from 90 minutes in college, which was cut from 2 hours in high schoo. Now, I can shower, shampoo and (sorta) shine in 16 minutes, if I put my mascara on in the car at stoplights on the way to wherever I’m going.
I can be faster if I sleep in my clothes.
I think the pendulum may have swung too far …
You are so funny. My best time now is 30 minutes. But, I’m older…
Funny IS always Fashionable and a lot more fun. I prefer FUNNY and Fashionable for myself. Two loves together. Like Chocolate and Peanut butter. But I don’t care, if this doesn’t matter to you. And I will sit at your table anyday.
Thanks, Shelley. I like the image of sharing a table with you and laughing.
Laughter is the grease that keeps all the parts moving!
I love that, Tam! And, I’ll use it!
Not only do I agree that laughter is always fashionable, but I also love seeing laugh lines on women. If they don’t have ’em, I am not sure I trust ’em. Give me a few blemishes, and we can be friends.
Kim, I hope we can get together again and share some great laughs.
While I do support each woman in declaring her own style, I do confess that I had to clench my jaw to keep from laughing at a younger woman last month. I was getting the screen replaced on my phone at a local computer store when a 20 something woman came in the store. She was wearing a very short-and-tight dress, way too many loud accessories, heavy make up and extremely high heels. She looked very uncomfortable in her outfit and appeared to be one deep exhale away from a wardrobe malfunction. I also wanted to hug her and tell her, “It’s OK. Your authentic self is good enough. You don’t have to try so hard. Good people will love you if you dress so that you can also breath and walk without injury.” I am sooooo glad that I’m comfortable in my own (wrinkled, spotted) skin–and in more forgiving clothes.
OMG that picture made me laugh so hard! Yes, I totally agree — funny is fashionable, sexy, attractive, fun!
Elaine I adore your style! I wish I could say that I am as evolved as you. Although I gravitate to the down-to-earth people, I still struggle some with the whole “what to wear” thing, probably because I am lost if the attire isn’t blue jeans and flip-flops! Next time we go to a party I am taking your advice and following the laughter–sounds like a sure bet to a fun time. 🙂
I’m with you all the way on this. I dress for comfort now. Style be damned! (I do love St. John’s suits but I’ve never owned one.)
your pic is so funny. I believe laughter is not just the character
Right on! Oh the exquisite luxury of being on the comfortable side of 50.
Love this! My life has always been full of laughter so I really agree with you. I was always that loud laughing funny one even when I was young. Life is better that way. Thanks for the great thoughts and laugh tonight!