Recently, I purchased a pair of embellished stockings. They were popular when I was much younger, and have made a comeback, as most fashions do. I wondered (briefly) if they were perhaps too youthful for me. Since I don't really care about that, I bought them anyway. (Seriously. I still wear hiphuggers, love beads, and shirts embossed with peace signs. And I'm not too proud to shop in the Junior Department to get them.)
I wore the stockings to work today, and wasn't one of the twenty-somethings sporting the same stockings. We smiled at each other with amusement, and I casually mentioned my misgivings about wearing them. "How old are you?", she queried. "I'm closer to sixty than I care to admit" I whispered . And then I admitted it. "I'm fifty eight." She subsequently indicated to me that I reminded her of her...grandmother. Ugh! (This conversation gets better.) She said her grandmother looks good for her age too. (That's what you call a left handed compliment.) She continued, "I'm always telling her if you've still got it, flaunt it." Then she said to me "and girl, you've still got it." Have I mentioned how fond I am of this young woman?
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