A woman was stocking the organic bananas in Superstore, and so I waited patiently as she unloaded. She gestured to me to go ahead, choose your bananas and then looked a bit shocked as I piled thirty or so into my cart. “Do you run a group home or something?” she said, puzzled. “Is that why you have so many bananas?”

I’m not sure why her mind immediately went to “group home” but it was more interesting than the joke the cashier made about keeping my pet monkey happy. This was, coincidentally, the same cashier whose nonagenarian father was in the hospital, and so I asked about him. It was his appendix, apparently, not his gall bladder, which surprised me as I never think of the ninety-something set having appendix issues; neither did my cashier, who casually informed me that her appendix was removed without her consent, back when she had her hysterectomy thirty years ago.

Not everyone loves bananas or conversations about uterine health and questionable medical ethics with their grocery cashier, but I do.

There have been a number of blog posts lately in which the author discusses things that she wished she liked, but does not, (HI SUZANNE, HI ELISABETH, HI STEPHANY) and it occurred to me that nothing falls into that category for me. There are many things in the world I dislike, or don’t want, or outwardly loathe, but I don’t wish that to be different. I consider these things to be part of my The World Is A Tapestry mindset, and also, secretly, that life is a zero-sum game and if I loathe pie, for example, it frees up the worldwide supply of pie for others to enjoy.

Before I get too involved, let’s recall my number one pet peeve, which is right up there with not returning shopping carts: the stating of a negative subjective opinion as objective fact. In other words, the statement that something is bad when that is objectively untrue; rather, that something is disliked, or not wanted, or outwardly loathed by an individual person, and for the purposes of this discussion, that individual person is me. Just because bangs do not suit my face or hair type does not mean that they are bad; they may be unsuitable for me, but I have many friends for whom they not only work, they look fabulous. I’m looking at you, Allison (HI ALLISON).

Often I find myself interested in things that others have but that I do not want in my own life; I will never get a tattoo, for example, nor will I have a cat in my home. Many people find facials and massages to be indulgent and relaxing, but the mere thought of either of those things make me instantly tense and anxious. I have a strong aversion to onions and the thought of biting into a soft, cooked apple revolts me almost as much as the mere mention of celery. I dislike true crime books and podcasts, speculative and dystopian fiction, and if anyone so much as gives me one Thoreau quote, my blood pressure spikes. I have never seen a single episode of Star Trek, Cheers, or any daytime soap opera. I haven’t smoked pot or cigarettes for over thirty years and I have no interest in either thing, no matter how trendy marijuana products are now.

Speaking of trends, the word on the street is that skinny jeans are dead. Dead! No one is wearing them anymore, by which I mean the youth of the world. The trend right now is to wear enormous, wide-leg, baggy jeans with tiny crop tops and people, I have seen this trend before. I have worn this trend before. I was a young woman in the 90s and I spent a great deal of time in that decade wearing such jeans, with a wide belt on my teeny-tiny waist, paired with a very small crop top. I will tell you this right now: I am 5’7″, with fairly long legs, and at the time of which I am speaking, I had a cute little hourglass figure. Even so, I look back on those photos and a yeeeeee sound emits from my mouth. It did not look good. This is a trend I will never revisit, because it didn’t look good then and it sure as hell will not look good now, the least reason for which is that I do not feel that I am in a place in my life to wear a wide belt and a crop top.

But Nicole, you might be saying to yourself, there are other modern cuts of jeans that do not include the enormous legs. You might be referencing straight leg jeans, and let me tell you, I tried to hop on that bandwagon, and never has a pair of jeans made me feel so frumpy. I purchased not one but two different styles of straight legs, and the only way I can wear them without feeling like my own grandmother, if my own grandmother actually wore jeans, which she did NOT, is to cuff them up above the ankle and then pair them with ankle booties. I feel like I did in 1991, when I was wearing floral babydoll dresses with army boots while many of my peers embraced the grunge look with abandon. I am as likely to wear straight leg jeans uncuffed as I am to wear outsized plaid flannel shirts with corduroys, which is to say, not likely.

Here’s the thing about skinny jeans: I like the way I look in them. I like the way I feel in them. I recently spent a lot of money on Mott and Bow jeans, and they were worth every penny for their comfort and stretch without bagging.

Also, I love a tall boot and there is nothing so good on my body as a skinny jean with tall boots.

The only other jean type that I think suits my body type is a flare, but I really only think they look good with a nice stacked heel; I rarely wear heels anymore, and so I embrace the skinny jean. You might think I’m making too much of footwear, but we all know that footwear can make or break an outfit. Let’s just consider the powersuit of the 80s, paired with white running shoes for commuting. I rest my case.

I embrace the skinny jean, and here’s the thing about them being off-trend: I do not give a fuck. This is a supreme privilege of aging: I do not have to give any more fucks about any clothing trend. I am almost fifty and the amazing thing about being almost fifty is I could not care less about being on-trend. I can be out of style and no one cares, least of all me. I want to wear what I want to wear, and I don’t care if it makes me look dated or out of style. This obsession with keeping on trend with what young people are wearing seems to be a new idea. I do not think women of earlier generations thought that they should be wearing the same thing as their daughters, or granddaughters. Did my mother look at twenty-year-old me and think wow, I have to get a baby tee and wear it underneath a floral sundress? No! She did not! Our mothers were wearing their slacks and crisp blouses and blazers and they looked absolutely wonderful. I am thrilled to leave youthful fashion to the youth. I mean, am I going to look at my niece and think you know what would look great on me, ruffles and ruching a la granny chic. No! Because when you’re almost fifty, granny chic just makes you look like a granny, and honestly, I can wait a few years before I tackle that era.

Here’s the other thing about the idea that we should all throw out our skinny jeans and replace them with straight-or-wide-leg-or-whatever-is-on-point jeans: WHAT THE FUCK. With everything we know about fast fashion and the incredible landfill waste that is old clothing, why would anyone just toss out all their perfectly serviceable clothes just to get new ones? And of course I’m not talking about getting rid of clothes that no longer serve you because they are the wrong size or fit or, in my case, you have worn them for so many years that they are falling apart. You should always feel beautiful in your clothes. What I am talking about is this consumeristic view that just because something is not in vogue, we need to replace it.

And so I will step onto my denim-covered-soap box with a raised fist, saying WEAR WHATEVER JEANS YOU WANT. Or wear no jeans at all! Wear what makes you happy! As a middle aged woman I say fuck the trends, dress for yourself, live your clothing truth.

Weekly Reading

These Precious Days. This is a reread for me; when I first read it, I thought it was the best book of essays I had ever read. On the reread, it is STILL the best book of essays I have ever read! Every essay has a common thread, and that is that life is so precious. Friendship, marriage, family, and shopping are all written about, and I loved every single essay. I also found it fascinating when she wrote about her writing process. She writes each chapter until it’s perfect, then moves on to the next one. It sure works for her. 

Prom Mom. Have you ever wondered what happens to people who achieve notoriety at a young age? Have you ever wondered about girls who don’t realize they are pregnant until they go into labour? Then this novel is for you! The year is 1997 and a 16 year old girl has a baby on prom night, alone in a bathroom. When she is discovered, passed out from blood loss, the baby is dead. (I have logistical questions about this, specifically regarding the cord cutting, but let’s just move along for the sake of the story). Her date never checked on her, in fact he kind of ditched her at prom. They reconnect 22 years later, and he is on top of the world: wealthy and successful, with a beautiful, wealthy and successful life. Lots of twists and drama in this book, and the latter part takes place in the pandemic (it was written in 2021, and wow, it shows). The pandemic part really encapsulates how we were all feeling at that time, thinking about vaccinations and how everything would be just fine once we all got them. Ha! Anyway, it’s an pretty twisted and fast-paced read.

Late Bloomers. This was a very heartwarming read, although I spent a large chunk of the book strongly disliking 3/4 of the main characters. I don’t think I ever totally warmed to two of them, but it was a very sweet book about a family in which the parents split up after 36 years of marriage. All of the family members have their own secrets that they are hiding; even picture perfect situations and people have their issues, often hidden. It is a nice quick read with some very funny parts.

*****

Circling back to jeans, those of you who have been with me a very long time, meaning over a decade, might remember my 2012 diatribe about skinny jeans and how reluctant I was to give up my low-rise, boot cuts. What can I say, once I was in, I was all in on the skinny jean. And perhaps in 2034 I will be railing against another style of pants which I will later adopt, perhaps some kind of slacks? Who can say what the future will bring, all I can say is that I have a fun and festive week ahead of me, and I hope you do too. xo