Fashion Menopause

So there I was, at the ma7955568316_d3086536c4_bll, killing time while waiting to meet a friend for dinner.  I got a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, bought some candles from Bath & Body Works, and did my usual circuit around Macy’s.  My friend was still 30 minutes away.  What the hell, I thought.  I’ll go check out some of the stores I used to frequent in my younger years.  My experience went something like this:

[Walks into Forever 21; proceeds to browse.]

Floral bodysuit?  Like the kind I wore when I was a kid in the 90s with snaps in the crotch?  Those were AWFUL!  Super cute, but I couldn’t wear this!  I don’t know if it would push in my love handles or accentuate them…

8, 364 likes.  On a see-through t-shirt.  Hmmm…  I’m not that popular.  Or that tan.  OR that thin.

That’s a cute shirt –   Oh wait.  Nope, that’s a dress.  JESUS!  That wouldn’t cover half my ass-cheeks!

[Walks out of Forever 21; slightly bewildered.]

[Walks into Charlotte Russe; proceeds to browse.]

There’s some cute cardigans I could pull off.  Maybe just on the weekends, though.

More bodysuits!  What’s with that?  Do the youngsters really dig this shit?  Maybe bodysuits are more comfortable these days…

Wow.  Lots of acid wash.  Would I look good in acid wash?  Please, Heidi.  Nobody wants to see that.

Lots of cute shoes.  No size 10s.  Pft!  Go figure…

[Walks out of Charlotte Russe; sighs.]

[Walks into Body Central; stands in the entrance.]

Hell. No.

[Walks out of Body Central; shaking my head.]

Here’s the thing, friends.  I’m almost 30, and I’m finally coming out of that age where you’re too old for the things you used to wear, but not quite old enough for the things the generation ahead of you wears.  This is also known as “fashion menopause”.  I mean, I would look ridiculous in a “#YOLO” high/low tank top with coordinating bandeau top and high-waisted shorts.  On the other hand, I would feel ridiculous in a Ralph Lauren polo and St. John’s Bay khakis.

But believe it or not, there are plenty of stores for late 20s/early 30s women in fashion limbo.  I’m in the process of testing these waters and have found that it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.  I can accept my age, know that I still feel young, but don’t look 23 anymore (c’mon though; I don’t think I look that old either).  Even if I had Jennifer Aniston’s legs and Pink’s abs, I still think I would call it quits on the stores of my younger years.  But, ultimately, if it looks good and feels good, then wear what you want!

#YOLO, right?


The Neurotic Blonde Returns (Again)!

Whatcha been up to?

Whatcha been up to?

It’s been almost a year.

All it takes is one glance.  Like, “remember that blog you used to love to write, divulging your past and present mishaps…”  Do I even know my password anymore?  I let my “.com” expire, so does my blog even still exist?  My fingers and brain react, knowing exactly where to go, and exactly what to type.  And it’s as simple as that.

And here I am.  Back in my cozy little corner of the interwebs.  Re-reading about my life that still feels as fresh as the day I wrote about it.  But…it’s not fresh.

It’s been almost a year.

A lot happens in a year, which I realize is a completely cliché thing to say, but it’s the simple truth.  In that time, I would think about my blog and think, maybe I should post something.  Or, maybe I should just let it die.  That’s ultimately what I decided on.  Just let “The Neurotic Blonde” die.  But, I’m beginning to think that’s not possible.  I would think about writing almost every day.  Even if the thought was just a whisper of a thought passing through my cerebrum.  In the same instant I would quiet the whisper telling myself that I didn’t have the time to write.  I would tell myself that life is too crazy and too hectic now to write.  Nobody wants to read your stories…or your rambles…or your feelings.  Just let it die.

Again, that’s not possible for me.  I LOVE WRITING!!!  It makes me feel so good, and I feel so accomplished when I’m done.  I love that I have a way to release everything I think, or know, or feel.  I love that this blog is a preservation of my life – of my tiny little triumphs and defeats.  And…I love to think that maybe one person out there finds this blog amusing.  Blogging has always given me a rush.  For me, sharing my stories – the good, the bad, and the incredibly idiotic – is scary every time I sit down to write.  Why?  Because honestly I’m scared of what people will think of me.  As an almost 30-year-old woman (please, do not forget the almost when referring to my age, thanks) you would think I would be past that superficial stage.  But if I’m being honest with you – and honest with myself – part of me really still cares.  And it’s strange because there are some things and some people who do not faze me.  I do not care if some drunk sorority girl at the bar thinks my dress is hideous.  I don’t care if a crowd of people see me wipe out on the ice walking back to my car after a hockey game.  I don’t put makeup on to go run errands on a Saturday afternoon because I don’t give a shit if anyone is disgusted by my uneven skin tone or the couple blemishes I may have.  But, when the people I care about – truly care about – have something negative to say about me or my writing or my actions…  I will beat myself up relentlessly.  And quite a few of those people I truly care about read this blog.  And I try to stay as true to the story/opinion as possible.  When I find myself sugar-coating a situation or changing dialogue so I look better I stop, back it up, and re-write the way it truly is.

And THAT’S why I get the rush.  It’s also the reason I quit writing for periods of time.  I panic a little bit every time I go to publish, hovering over the button like it’s equally my savior and my demise.  Every time I follow through I feel a little bit brave, and a little bit sick.  I can’t get enough of that feeling sometimes!  Sometimes it’s too much to bear.  There are days when I could write and write and write, and there are weeks where the words don’t seem to flow.  It’s very inconsistent.  But, every time I come back I’m sucked in again.  And it feels sooooo good!  It feels like I never left.  Except…I did leave.

It’s been almost a year.




The Neurotic Blonde


P.S. – A year in pictures is up in A Day In the Life section…if you were curious…