What Not to Wear

So, what does Woman Facing 50 wear?

Wait, must establish parameters. 1. Cannot spend lot of money. Woman does not make much and married man who makes even less. Sigh. 2. Cannot involve pantyhose. Hate pantyhose. Plus suffer from vulvadynia. Combo of tight unbreathable synthetic up against thin, traumatized vulva not appealing. Plus: live in Deep South. Tend to sweat a lot down there. Everywhere, actually. 3. Cannot involve high heels. Hate high heels. Walk a lot. Treasure comfort. 4. Cannot involve underwire bras. Same reasons as number 3. Except maybe for the walking a lot. Boobs small. Boobs do not swing. No problem walking.

OK. Oooh, one additional important point of info: This particular Woman Facing 50 recently lost 15 pounds (kudos to Weightwatchers Online's Zero-Point Asian-Inspired and Mexican Soups) and so this particular Woman Facing 50, in moment of total self-congratulation, went out and bought leggings and kinda long sweater or is it a mini-dress thing. Which she wears with boots. Also skinny jeans. Also with boots. (Didn't have to buy the boots--amazing fashion-aware 14-year-old son gave boots for Christmas. Love and adore son. When not fantasizing about boarding school.) Love leggings and boots look. Love to swagger around campus feeling like Robin Hood.

But--NY Times fashion article decreed noone over 30 should even look at leggings. Noooooooo.

Even worse--came home from mall with skinny jeans to be greeted by 18-year-old son:
"Oh. My. God. You're not going to turn into one of those moms, are you?"
Umm. Which moms?
"Oh. Geez. You know."

And yes, I do know.

Am I one of those moms?

So, yesterday, after a bad night, tormented by self-doubt, I dressed exactly as I wanted to. It helped immensely that it was unusually cold here in south Louisiana. Unfortunately, dressing as I want to demands cold weather. I wore dangly earrings, a simple pullover sweater, a long skirt, cotton tights, ankle socks, and hiking boots. Vintage Annie Hall with a bit of Once thrown in. And I was happy. The dept secretary looked at me in astonishment and my students seemed more, umm, stunned than usual, but I was happy. Fuck it. I'm almost 50.