Aging. What a beautiful thing.
About, oh...a year ago, I was invited over to a close friend of my mom's to try on clothes that she didn't want anymore. She was ready to part with them. Since my wardrobe speaks of Target with only the occasional flash of Rod Stewart boots...mmm..preKIDS, I was IN. My mom went with me. I knew it was going to be a good time when my mom's friend opened up a bottle of wine at 3pm in the afternoon. The feeling was cemented when she walked in the guestroom bearing an armload of clothes and kept going back for more. It was a little overwhelming and intimidating...but, I hung in there. You see, I don't really have that "shopping gene" that most women seem to have. It makes me a little anxious and uncomfortable. I love great clothes, but the process of acquiring them - even when presented as a gift is not something that comes easily. As I slipped on leggings, shimmied into pants and slid sexy tops over my head, I felt as if in a dream. I was molting out of outfits and into new ones that definitely didn't feel like couture de Targay.