I’ve spent my last three decades in my 30s. In my 20s, I watched thirtysomething. In my 30s, I was thirtysomething, and now, in my 40s, I hang out with thirtysomethings.
Since 40 is the new 20 and 60 is the new 40 and we apparently either all suck more at math or get really good at subtracting 20 as we age, I was drawn to How not to look — or act — your age in Saturday’s Rocky Mountain News. It’s Mary Winter’s take on the new book How Not to Look Old, by Charla Krupp.
I liked the sidebar that accompanied the article. I’ve re-ordered these items from my least-concerning to point-me-toward-the-retirement-village. I’d give myself a B+, or a hopeful 34 years:
Nothing ages you like . . .
Heavy foundation: I’m more likely to be accused of not wearing enough.
Dark lipstick: Yuk.
Obvious lip liner: Double yuk.
A bra that fails to boost the girls halfway between your shoulders and your elbows: I have just enough to matter but not enough to sag (not such a good thing in junior high school).
Dragon-lady nails: how do people do laundry with those?
An eyeglass chain around your neck: nope.
Hair that’s a solid block of color: I’m assuming gray doesn’t count as a secondary color? Still, I don’t have that problem yet.
Yellow teeth: good genes, good habits and a good dentist keep this one in check.
Holiday sweaters with bells and appliques: haven’t done it yet. Probably won’t.
Half-glasses: just regular glasses or contact lenses.
Nude pantyhose: oops. Love that reinforced toe. What’s the alternative — fish nets?
Long hair, parted in the middle: Why didn’t I get the memo BEFORE I spent a year growing out my bangs!? In any case, my part is just off center. So there.
Granny pants or mommy jeans: guilty. But not since I saw this (take the 56 seconds to watch it):
Note: this video must run afoul of copyright laws because each of the two I’ve placed here have promptly been removed. Instead, and with much less impact, here is a transcript of the clip. But it’s just not the same.
I DID love that 9 inch zipper. Sigh.