I might be getting old

It was bound to happen. 

I knew it was coming and yet there was nothing I could do to stop it. I grew my first few gray hairs at the age of 14. From there those few hairs became a patch that was easily hidden depending on how I parted my hair. I grew fond of this patch and started calling it my "racing stripe" (which some referred to as my skunk stripe, as I am not built for speed).  But mostly I paid little attention to my hair. Until one day around a year ago. I have fairly long hair that winds up in a bun on top of my head most days. Usually, I put it up without the benefit of a mirror. This day however I was looking in a mirror when I noticed that my racing stripe was not alone. Dappled through the sides of my head were many gray hairs. And I don't hate it. 

I have always been told that I look way younger than my actual age. I mostly attribute it to my stature. I am quick to respond with "chubby don't crack" whenever I am told that I don't look my age. 

The final straw though was the back-to-school clothing shopping experience with my teenage daughter. Walking through the clothing stores I was immersed in the fashion of my high school years. Cords, cropped hoodies, bodysuits, babydoll dresses, chokers, flannel (mostly to be tied around the waist), and the return of my beloved Doc Martens

I suppose this is the same feeling all generations have. It's nice to see that the more things seem to change the more they stay the same. 

Does that mean that frosted tips and low-riding jeans are next?


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Momma's Boy

Changes, or how I never thought I would miss the last guy.

Deep Breaths