A few months ago, I got invited to a networking event. My excitement at the idea to get out amongst people over three feet tall quickly withered into smacking my head against the keyboard… Upon closer reading, I discovered this event was at a club.
A swanky club. A bottle service kind of club. You might laugh because really, what’s the big deal.
I can count on one hand the number of clubs I’ve been to in my life. As a rule, I’m a little more casual. On the couple of occasions I’ve found myself wandering into long lines and velvet rope dividers, I was substantially younger and cuter, my ass was smaller and I could wear tall heels for more than an hour without whimpering.
These days, I work at home, which means my uniform involves a lot of hoodies and jeans. Not cool jeans, either. In fact, I learned last week that most of my jeans are horrible mom jeans that give me “long butt”, and I didn’t even realize it. When I do leave the house, it just means I swap a clean-ish sweater for the sweatshirt.
So, anyway… I had an event at a club on the horizon. After a quick glance through my closet and trying unsuccessfully to jam myself into a funky top from about four years prior, I headed to the mall.
The sad thing is that there’s no easy place to go shopping for “going out clothes” when you’re closer to 40 than 30. I wandered the stores for a while, pulling out clothes that were either completely inappropriate for me, or so tiny that I cringed and kept walking.
I finally ended up at one of the stores where someone brings you outfits back to the dressing room, removing all guesswork. Anyone who has seen my utter inability to accessorize understands that this was the wisest move. When they asked what I needed, I begged, “Please help me find something that looks like I should be out at the club… but not that I am trying to look 21!”
While the process of trying on these impractical clothes turned out to be ridiculously fun, I had to giggle as the clerks kept coaxing,
“Go one size smaller! Tighter!”
I came home feeling good about two outfits – One for the event, and one as an excuse to get another fun night on the calendar.
Of course, when I pulled the clothes out after the holidays, I remembered another clothing rule that the 20-somethings from the store don’t yet have to face: When you’re closer to 40 than 30, “one size smaller” and “tighter” is a terrible idea. These muffin top years are cruel, and those outfits are already in the “someday maybe I’ll fit into them again pile.”
At least for that one night, I looked damn good.
Tracy Jensen, aka ChiMomWriter, is a writer, marketer, mother, fundraiser, marathoner, wine drinker and music lover. She survives suburban exile by blogging about anything that pops into her mind at It Builds Character and about empowering women at Just Be Enough. She can also be found at night ignoring the dishes and playing on Twitter. Stop by and say hello.
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