Outfit Post: Am I old?

The other night I cuddled up on the couch with a glass of wine and watched in the circus that is the Grammy Awards. I took in performances by Justin Bieber and Katy Perry and Cee-Lo, along with throngs of teenage girls (and boys) who screamed their little tousled heads off in appreciation. There was glitter, and Rhianna in a dress that looked like a collapsed wedding cake, and Nikki Minaj as Elvira Queen of the jungle.  

As I watched the awards, it dawned on me that not only had I never heard of some songs being performed, most of the artists looked pre-adolescent, undernourished and in desperate need of showering. I became more and more confused. Have Kim Kardashian and J. Lo morphed into one glamazon super-creature? Was that my perfect perfect Gwynnie writhing and moaning on Cee-Lo's piano? (and has Cee-Lo taken a second job substituting for a Mardi Gras float?) AND what in God's great name am I supposed to make of Gaga's egg arrival and shirtless gogo dancer minions? Was it some kind of pro-poultry STATEMENT? Will I be expected to carry signs and protest in front of a federal building this weekend??? Because I have plans, you know.

As the show continued, a fear struck deep into my heart: I am officially getting old.

Getting old terrifies me. It means I'm crotchety and old-fashioned. Old people watch PBS and clip coupons and drive under the speed limit and read the newspaper in the library and rail about the demise of society. They reminisce about a time when a hamburger cost a quarter and people waited until marriage to have sex. They sit across from each other in really depressing restaurants like Denny's and don't talk. Old women wear polyester underwear pulled to their chins and perfume from Estee Lauder and spend hours in the beauty parlor setting their hair. The music is always too loud and the lines are too long and it's too hot or too cold and OH DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME, I'LL JUST WAIT BY THE PHONE FOR YOU TO CALL, IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO. TOMORROW I MIGHT BE DEAD YOU KNOW.

There are lots of other signs which point to my almost elderly status:

My bedtime is creeping dangerously close to ten o'clock.
I aim for high fiber content.
I start sentences with "When I was your age..."
A movie and homemade dinner makes for a happening night.
I use the word "happening".

I sat awake most of the night, convinced I was going to suffer a stroke or heart attack or some other malady that strikes the elderly. But things looked different in the morning. I realized that there are lots of ways I remain youthful. For one, Fruit Loops are my most favorite meal ever. My tattoos certainly channel a young, risk-taking spirit. I love taking my kids to the playground and going down the slide. Ear-damaging loud concerts still make for the perfect night out. Experimenting with cosmetics at the MAC counter fills me with glee. I giggle over Spongebob and Pixar movies and can make a meal out of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And I know how to rock my skinny jeans.

I suppose this outfit is a combination of my young and old parts. The cardigan is a senior citizen meatloaf-and-green-bean early bird special, but the jeans are a twenty-something grad student on her way to meet friends for late-night cocktails.

Do you ever feel "old"? How do you deal with the aging process? Does your age affect your personal style?

Gap cardigan; thrifted J Crew long-sleeved tee; Paige Skyline skinny jeans; Via Spiga bag; Cole Haan loafers; Gap Outlet belt; Nordstrom necklace