There's a store at my local mall called Forever 21. I'm pretty sure they don't actually mean that, but "21 Until You're 29 and Then You Can Only Shop Here for Your Daughters" isn't as catchy a store name.
The problem is, I'm attracted to everything in this and every other store meant to cater to young, partying women. Despite the fact that I am neither young nor partying (unless you include a night playing Pictionary at home until 9 p.m. when all the guests leave because we're all middle-aged and appreciate the value of a good night's sleep).
I walk by these places and I'm like a child with A.D.D. "Look, a pretty butterfly. Sure, it's on a miniskirt I could only wear as a headband, but look how shiny and purple it is!" Everything is bright and colorful and just exudes fun. Unlike stores meant to cater to women over 50, which basically are either so mother-of-the-bride I feel like crying or they're all red and purple because apparently, once you're old enough to be a red-hatter, these are the only colors you can wear when you want to have a good time (not that there's anything wrong with that, but I need chartreuse and tangerine and turquoise. And apparently, I need it smaller and tighter than should be legal at my age.)
Is it my fault I grew up as a member of the Spandex Generation? We came right after the Hippie Generation and their flowing, gauzy maxi-dresses and long fringed vests. My generation saw a floor-length paisley skirt and thought Grandma, not sexual revolution. We wanted things that clung to our bodies to show off our assets (never mind that my main assets are my hair and my teeth) -- and anything with Spandex fit the bill perfectly. We didn't need hallucinogenic drugs, we had the spinning disco ball, Donna Summers and clothes so tight they took our breath away.
The weird thing is that now that I'm over 50, instead of thinking of Spandex as a fabric that shows off parts of me, I think of it as having the power to flatten out or spread around parts of me. Unfortunately, the only things made with the miracle fabric for my age group are "body shapers" which operate on the principle that without them your body has no shape. Mine has shape. It changes depending upon the earth's gravitational pull that day, but it does have shape. Today's is Bartlett Pear.
Body shapers are made with Spandex and they do accomplish my flattening out/spreading around goals, but they are meant to be worn under clothing. As a hot-flashing woman, I always dress in layers, but I like to know that I can strip down to layer #1 without small children screaming and young men unable to look their mothers in the eyes ever again. So I need my Spandex in the form of shirts and skirts and pants, oh my. Anything to hold in my tummy and thighs and return my boobs to their original longitude.
So if you see me shopping at Forever 21, and I tell you I'm shopping for my niece, just avert your eyes and keep walking. I have Spandex, don't make me use it!
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