I try to be hip. There are times where the 10 year old Mallory shines because she is so proud of her 22 year old metropolitan counterpart who frequents cafes and has a Latin boyfriend (note: I am still working on this). There are times though, that I feel my 63 year old counterpart is taking hold and I am not liking the results. There are things in this life that one must hold true and one of these things is identity. I often do things that feel cool without questioning them and then after abotu 10 minutes there is a bit of heavy guilt where I ask myself "Now's the time to figure out exactly what I would do with an Elvis statue complete with 5 foot phallace. This Christmas my parents are going to get a face full of Pelvis." As of late, these decisions have followed a frightening pattern.
I was visiting the mall with my family yesterday and I noticed an odd new trend. Apparently it's really awesome to wear clothing that is not weather appropriate. My hometown is in the snowbelt region of New York (Remember last year when the central part of the state had so much snow the Governor called a state of emergency? Thats the place!) and I first saw a girl enter the mall with a long sleeve shirt and Adidas sandals! At least her friend was wearing socks with them. It got worse as I entered. I saw a girl in flip flops. T-shirts were everywhere. Then the advent of the end: A girl with capris, a t-shirt and sandals; I mean sweet sassy molassy! It was 26 degrees outside. I was wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a sweater, in addition to the fleece jacket, hat and scarf I had on. Also ragwool socks because my feet get cold and I am a lumberjack. As I was complaining, I happened to mention the phrase "kids these days..." totally legitimately, I was not using this phraseology to be ironic. It does not end there.
I was perusing the goods at H&M and I made a purchase that I thought would make my sweaters and hats cuter. I bought a broach. It has sparkly things and I attached to my lavendar hat, which also makes me look like an old woman. Thank You. My parents are not kind about it, my father tried to order me a prune juice at the resturaunt yesterday.
So I need to stop this, I think. I mean being sensible is cool, but I have feeling that I am going to get Depends for Christmas.
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2 comments:
oh your dad is so mean sometimes. if it makes you feel any better, i have a camisole tucked in under a sweater and it looks like a body suit. I don't frankly know why that would make you feel better actually. Listen to Jeffrey Lewis Album, Its the ones who've cracked that the light shines through. He's 27 and having trouble with that. Unfortunately, it does not have the song called Williamsburg Will Oldham horror, but you should listen to that too...and watch the video on youtube. Its his existential crisis. really i think you'll like the first track on that album, its called back when i was 4. its a little sad. Also, you're not going grey yet, so its ok. and kids are ridiculous, and i don't understand mall fashions either. last night we were at wegmans and these four girls were in there, and you could tell they had really cute outfits on (minus the uggs...ugg.) but then threw stupid coats on over it, and poorly contrasting scarves. and by cute outfits i mean some sort of shirt with leggings. all in leggings. leggings all around. There is an alarming trend here of girls just wearing leggings with nothing over it, but a long-ish t shirt. asses are very out in the open here. it would be like if i showed up at your house wearing an old big t shirt that almost covered my butt, but had on some leggings and flats too. its confusing, and those girls are probably cold all the time. also, i look very old and don't know how to youthen up my short mom hair. and i have had to reheat my coffee twice this morning. now its noon. sigh.
"All my Friends" by LCD Soundsystem is the soundtrack to my aging, and probably my favorite/the best song of the year. If James Murphy can be 40 and cooler than school, I don't see why we can't be either. Our top ten lists are way better than Mischa Barton's.
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