Forever 35
THE MIDLIFE GALS WROTE: I have decided to be 35. I am going to skip past the notion that 50 is the new forty and go down to the 30’s. It just sounds better and feels better too. Until, of course, I have to put my mascara on in one of those magnifying mirrors that makes me look like my face is one BIG eye. My eyelids have crept down to produce their own double chins, so I have to really open my eyes wide and lift my eyebrows in order to put on eye shadow. And, speaking of eyebrows, mine are going bald so I have to use a pencil to ‘fill in.’ I’m thinking of tattooing eyebrows on so I can eliminate one more step in my beauty regimen, but then I’d have to glue individual hairs on top of that so I wouldn’t look like Marlene Dietrich. So, I’ll think 35, but everyone will still see 57. Can’t be helped! Onward, through the fog!
LAURA WROTE: I turned 32 this week, and am no longer officially young (thanks to Asher Roth’s MILF age qualifier of being at least 32 - I don’t even have KIDS, and I’m officially a frigging MILF?). When did I cross the line from Miss to Ma’am?
INSLEE WROTE: What about that “they ruined it” feeling you get when you discover that your treasured, saved-money-up-for, big-ticket-handbag–the one that you finally purchased after waiting until was on markdown–is on the arm of most 13 year old girls at the mall! You are now forced to toss it aside, because you figure all who see you with it will assume you are trying to be one of them! THEY RUINED IT! I can’t keep ahead of these kids. I’m not trying to be cool and with-it, but I can now never imagine carrying a Couch purse with the “C”s on it, any silver jewelry from Tiffany’s nor compete with my niece’s Tori Burch ballet flat collection!
JANINE WROTE: Does anyone else find the tv commercials for Mohegan Sun depressing? You know, the one that uses the music from “My Sharona” with dorky words about how the middle-aged fortysomethings in the commercial are going to bust out for the weekend, going nuts by going to Mohegan sun and gambling! Going to a chain restaurant! Staying up all night! Dancing around looking generally very white, frumpy and uncool…yes, the original punk/new wave generation is now in its forties, and the once ruling paragons of cooldom now are relegated to weekend outings to a casino with the sitter at home…*sigh*
There was a time when I used to pay $10 to go sit on the floor of every out-of-the-way downtown theater/basement/living room for one-person shows, trendy modern interpretations or Greek tragedies, etc. Then I would inevitably spot the actors eating falafel or drinking a beer next door and feel totally cutting edge. Now I’m excited if I remember to watch my DVR of The Office. I tip my hat to the next generation of 22-year-olds who have the energy to pay attention to these things.
