October 19th was my 33rd birthday and I’ve been pretty good about not feeling old. Or at least not acting old. The number on my driver’s license may show that I’m 33, but maturity-wise, I usually hover in the low to mid-teens. I’m good enough not to engage in contact sports during a funeral, but I once started getting really excited about playing dodgeball in physics. (When I found out the balls were just for a class demonstration, I was really disappointed… I think you get my drift.)
Conversely, I’m not overly concerned about my appearance and have few qualms about not shaving for days at a time. Showering… well, as long as no flowers are wilting… but my clothes tend to be very generic. Plain white t-shirt and jeans and I’m happy. No Hollister, no Aeropostale, no Abercrombie and/or Fitch—nothing like that. In a way, I’ve been happy to have leapt off the fashion train and watched it head off into the distance, but that also led to an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago that made me feel ancient.
Like I said, I’m not a big follower of fashion, but I know that things tend to come back into style every few decades. For example, bellbottoms became cool again when jean companies renamed them “flair” pants. I’ll be sticking with my baggy jeans, thank you very much (mostly because I have really large thighs and other styles of jeans usually smoosh my legs when I sit down). But apparently, fashion is not restricted to clothing from the waist down.
I was standing in the hallway waiting for the previous class to leave the room so we could head in for physics. Suddenly, I looked down the hall and saw a girl walking with her friend. This girl was wearing a weave headband over wavy blonde hair, a short-sleeve blue shirt pulled down off one shoulder… I didn’t check for tights with leg warmers, but that would have made the whole “Flashdance” outfit complete.
As soon as I saw her, I thought, “Is that some kind of costume? Is she dressed up for an 80s party or something?” That’s when I realized that while I’ve been looking at the tracks of the fashion train heading forward toward the proverbial horizon, I completely forgot that there are tracks coming from behind me as well. I thought her clothes looked extremely silly, but more than likely, they’re coming back into style again. Choo-choo! SPLAT! At that moment, I felt an “old man” tear trickle down my cheek, but at least I had the consolation of knowing people wouldn’t see it when it eventually landed on my plain white t-shirt.
