Temporarily 43

Sometimes the truth hurts. I was made aware of that this past weekend.

I had taken my oldest and his friend to the mall to do some serious shopping. The deals now, as teens these days would say, are off the chain as stores are getting rid of fall/winter merchandise to make room for spring and the hot new items for 2018. It truly is a great time to go shopping, if you don't think about the fact that a few weeks ago you spend $49.00 on a pair of boots that are now going for $9.00.


I had packed up my laptop hoping to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi in a quiet corner of the mall to get some work done. I also had visions of sipping hot tea and being alone to deal with my cabin fever after the weekend snow storm kept me holed up in the house with my brood. My plans came to a screeching halt when we remembered the Youth Escort Policy at the mall on weekends. Teens are unable to walk around without an adult after 6 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays.

Ok. Change of plans. No big deal. I escorted them to Forever 21, a store that was having a crazy sale. Racks of clothes priced between $5 and $7.  Buy one get one. Shoes 75% off. A young lady could get a whole new wardrobe if she was savvy and had a eye for a bargain.

I kept my distance from my teens, letting them do their thing while I checked out possible deals for this Over 21 consumer. I checked out the shoes - finding a pair of black Beatle boots that caught my eye and actually fit my narrow, podiatry challenged feet. But then I got a little cocky. I branched out. I made it to the million percent off racks. I started to look at the clothes.  l forgot my age and let my guard down.

I am well aware of items that are appropriate for a 21 year old verses someone 2 times 21. I did recognize the see through material, short skirts, and shirts that would not make it past my belly button and I kept my distance.

 But there were some nice coats I tried on, and actually almost bought. One of the coats caught the attention of another shopper who told me she just bought the same one and loved it. She seemed a little older than me, her lovely dreadlocks were mostly gray, so I got a boost of confidence - maybe I could shop in here.

Then I made it over to the dresses. There were some as cheap as $5!!! Again I let my guard down and was blinded by the sale. I had two events to attend the next day and was thinking a new dress would be just the ticket to boost my blah winter mood.

I selected a few off the rack and made it to the dressing room. I steered clear of my teens because I didn't want them to see I was actually trying things on. I wanted to make sure something fit before I announced this forty-something found something on the fountain of youth racks.

The dressing room attendant was polite. He did not make me feel like I didn't belong. He showed me to my room and I could not wait to see how these dresses looked.

Now, don't get me wrong. The items I picked out were age appropriate. One was a wrap dress and the other was a long sleeve straight A- line dress with a scoop neck. I chose two mediums because they looked like they would fit me, but boy was I wrong.

Sometimes I forget about what happened to my body after giving birth to three kids.  How parts like my hips, chest and thighs will never be the same. Plus, there is a lipoma (benign fatty tumor) on my right side that, according to my doctor, could be surgically removed but since I'm not wearing a bikini anymore, why bother.

When an interior button on the wrap dress I tried on went flying across the dressing room, and the curved slit up the middle revealed more than I show my husband, reality came tumbling back.  I am a former 21 year-old who has evolved into more conservative, less form fitting attire.

I actually had fun browsing at the mall this past weekend. I got some ideas of how I can spruce up my wardrobe and did get complements from my kids when I wore my new black boots with an old dress that kicked it up a notch.  My figure might not be Forever 21, but apparently my feet are! So to borrow words from Nancy Sinatra, "Are you ready boots? Start walking."