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After age sixty, there were things I could still wear (but really shouldn't have):
1. Skirts too tight or too short. Mini's were out. No-one's bumpy knees or calves knotted with varicose veins were attractive. Likewise, the rolls around my gut couldn't be hidden by anything tight-fitting unless it was a corset, which aren't produced anymore.
2. Plunging necklines. Wrinkled or leathery cleavage wasn't an asset.
3. Red dresses. I looked like a male cardinal on steroids.
4. Anything that had "pouf" in its name. Why did I want to look as though I had additional cellulite around my thighs or hips?
5. Sleeveless tops, unless exercising. The flaccid "angel wings" hanging below my arms were hideous.
6. Pants with pleats around the waist - added ten pounds!
7. Pencil-thin jeans. My muscular calves were bound so tight they cramped.
8. Pants with wide cuffs. Heels got caught in them (who wants to tumble?) and they got filthy as soon as I sat down.
9. Heels that were pointy or over three inches high. My bunions screamed and the formerly dislocated disc in my back warned me, "You'll be in therapy again!"
10. Anything that didn't have an underwire in the bra (as in swimsuits). No such thing as perky, pointy boobs anymore!
After age seventy, there are things I THINK I'm ok with (but really am not):
1. Making an introduction. I may have no clue what my best friend's name is, even if I'm staring at her!
2. Walking into a room without having written down why I'm entering. I may have to leave and re-enter to remember what I'm there for.
3. Spending all morning looking for my glasses. They're usually on the top of my head.
4. Eating anything with garlic. The reek lasts well beyond several applications of toothpaste and mouthwash.
5. Removing my shoes for any reason in front of anyone but my husband. The bunions are grotesque! At least at the beach I can bury them in sand.
6. Getting out on the dance floor to join twenty-somethings in their latest groove. Especially true for limbo contests! My body refuses to become a pretzel.
7. Eating any food in any quantity. Ditto for liquor.
8. Skipping the flu or Covid shots or forgetting to take my eight vitamins and cholesterol pill each night.
9. Travelling alone. I'm not looking for any kind of adventure without a guide to rescue me.
10 . Signing up as a chaperone for a teenage grandchild's class trip. Child will never speak to me again.
11. Applying make-up that will cover blemishes and bruises. Must be scraped with a putty knife!
12. Applying mascara that looks like cat's whiskers except they've relocated around my eyes. Or wearing those old cat's-eye glasses!
13. Going through a buffet line more than once. There wouldn't be enough Tums in my nightstand to get me through the night.
14. Wearing stockings. They eventually sag around the ankles and they're sooo 70's.
15. Trying to copy Jennifer Aniston's waist-skimming or feathered hair styles. Ear-length is the asolute max that won't blow into my eyes (or glasses) and make me look like a wanna-be 60's hippie.
16. Attempting to set up anything electronic unless my grandchildren have already pre-programmed it.
18. Trying to sleep through the night (unless you're a man). Herbal and green teas, sleep aids, reading till midnight, bathtub jets, bath oils, and sleep masks do not perform as advertised!
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