Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts

Friday, February 28, 2014

Not Seventeen


Today, while waiting in the reception area at my salon, I stumbled into a Seventeen Magazine. It's been ages since I'd seen, much less read, one and I picked it up with some degree of interest. I remembered how this was my "must-read" as a teenager.  I would save up my lunch money to be able to buy a copy (Tiger Beat was a distant second. Those I'd borrow).

 As I thumbed through the magazine, various articles caught my eye. The featured article was how to deal with your friend(s) no longer being that into you. That took me back.  I remembered how soul-crushing that was as a teenager – “She was my best friend! Who do I talk to now?". There was another article that addressed the questions surrounding teenage sex which even spoke of oral sex. And, even as I lowered my raised eyebrows, I admitted to myself that teens needed that kind of frank discussion rather than half-truths garnered from friends and self-serving "partners".

 However, the thing that surprised me the most was my appreciation of the fashion. I wondered if I was perhaps channelling Betsey Johnson, the preternaturally youthful, septuagenarian fashion designer known for her "over-the-top" designs (and her cartwheels at the end of her fashion shows). The clothes in the magazine were fresh and fun! The shoes (I have a weakness for fashion forward shoes) were fabulous – covering the gamut from conservative to outlandish. I could see myself actually wearing some of those items in a heartbeat.  And that’s the funny thing. Back when I was a teenager, even though I was a smaller dress size then than I am now, I would never consider wearing ANY of that. I was SO self-conscious about being overweight and not cute (it didn’t help that I wore glasses and my hair was FAR from being “cool”).

So what happened in the decades since my teens? I believe, quite frankly, I’ve grown into myself. I’ve learned that worrying, wondering what others think of you, and my trying to fit into their self-serving boxes, isn’t worth it. My friends laugh when, at each birthday, I say it’s my 25th birthday (On my last birthday, one friend joked that based on my “current age”, we met at UWI when I was minus two years-old. LOL). But for me, it’s not a case of trying to seem young (seriously – I can’t pass for 25 AT ALL). Rather, it’s a case of still being in that phase of life beyond the debilitating self-consciousness of my teen years and the generally, incapacitating “afraid-to-try-something-new” of the middle years. More Magazine speaks of Second Acts and Reinventing Yourself. I prefer to think of what I’m doing now as shucking the husk of who I’m supposed to be and engaging me.

I’m rather happy I ran into that copy of Seventeen Magazine today. It gave me a chance to revisit a time I’d forgotten and see how well I’d developed. It gave me a chance to say, truthfully to myself, “You’ve come a LONG way, baby”