Okay Seniors, I have another issue for you to ponder. What are your thoughts on fashion for seniors 70+? My question is based on the following episode and totally relevant, I think.
I have finally gotten comfortable with wearing leggings, jeggings, ( I don’t know what the difference is) etc. outdoors and decided I felt comfortable enough to wear a pair to work on dress down Friday. I had purchased a printed pair, made out of some stretchy material (they are so comfortable) and had even matched it up with a contrasting blouse.
Going to work that Friday morning, I have to admit I did see several males looking at me, (though whose to say they may have been thinking “what made her think she could wear those?”) and I even got a couple of hellos, and trust me, this is not the norm. Arriving to work I got several compliments on my outfit that I felt were genuine and I really felt special all day.
Well, after having a pretty spectacular day, I prepared to leave work and catch the subway, still feeling pretty good. Are you familiar with that bubble that Satan likes to burst? Well he burst my bubble real good.
I got on the escalator and was going down in peace. I caught out of the corner of my eye, a young male racing down past my left side. He startled me and I tried to hold on to the rail as he raced past. As he flew by like a flash, somehow I fell onto the step I was standing on trying to get out of his way. I couldn’t get my balance and just sat there holding on to the railing, taking an involuntarily ride to the bottom of the escalator. The guy who rushed past me stood at the bottom of the escalator, waiting to help me get up, while holding my bag that had fallen. Well, some how the pants that I confidently wore became caught in between the step keeping me from getting up. The gentleman took my arm and pulled me loose and made sure I was alright. I thanked him, assured him I was fine and went to one of the benches to sit down. Seeing the lights for the oncoming train I stood up and something made me feel the back of my pants and, of course, I had three different holes in my pants across my rear. Fortunately, the blouse I had on did cover my rear so no one could see the damage.
When I got home I found a couple more small holes even though the pants were already totally ruined. I couldn’t help wondering if what had happened was a message to be more selective with my wardrobe. Or was it simply an accident and that I should hold on to how great my day had been, up to the point where the escalator grabbed my rear?