Bodacious Boomer

Apparently there is a new trend in jeans. I saw it on TV this morning. The jeans are called “Winkers”. After seeing them modeled, I wondered why anyone over the age of maybe 30 would want to wear these. Take a look at these on YouTube.

Unless you are extremely fit, why would you want anybody staring right there? Wasn’t the “Bootylicious” fad  (which thank God has passed), enough? If Amanda still lived at home, I wouldn’t want her wearing these. I guessing that most men wouldn’t want their wives wearing these, bring undue attention to that part of their anatomy. Of course, there are always some that want their partner’s assets on display for all to see. So others can be envious. That’s the whole “I paid good money for those boobs and I want everyone to see” mentality.

So, as a public service, I decided to put these here for all to see who hadn’t already seen them. The holidays are approaching after all. (You’d better like someone a lot to order a pair of these for them). Currently they have 4 styles, ranging in price from only $159 to a whopping $579!- and you provide the jeans! When we were last in Aspen we went to Boogie’s diner. There is an airbrush artist that leases a small space there. They do beautiful work on clothing at a fraction of these prices. They’re quite pricey for sure; but almost $600 for just a pair of eyes on jeans? I don’t think so. Not to mention, you’re sitting on the paintings all the time. Just how long are these going to last, even assuming you baby them? I just re-read this. Do I sound like a crotchety old woman? I’m not- at least not crotchety that is.

Anyway, different strokes… , as they say. Today’s trivia answer-  a heavy winter fog containing ice crystals.

This is about the last day of an almost month long road trip to Colorado. We had Amanda’s best friend Ginny with us on this trip. Before we left Colorado to head home, Doug put all the money in his fanny pack. (That man was crazy for fanny packs for a few years.) We were on our way home having spent the day in Taos. What a cool place-very artsy. We’d decided we would get a motel room in Santa Fe that night, then push on the next day perhaps stopping one more night somewhere.

When we arrived in Santa Fe, Doug went to check us in only to discover that all the money in his fanny pack was gone. It was nylon and apparently the stitching at the bottom had just given way at some point and all the money had fallen out. It’s still hard to imagine that no one saw it fall, but it did and we didn’t. All we had left was the change from a $100 bill that I had broken to pay for lunch and gas earlier that day. Luckily I’d put that cash in my purse or we’d been screwed worse than we were. Obviously there would be no motel that night. (We didn’t travel with any plastic at all back then-strictly cash.)

We told the kids that we were going to drive straight thru to go home and just hunker down because it was going to be a long ride with very few stops. I was stressed and knew I couldn’t sleep right away so I told Doug I’d drive first. (He could instantly fall asleep on a bed of nails.) About ten miles out of town Brett said he had to pee. By now it was after10pm and we were on a fairly deserted road so I just pulled over so the troops could relieve themselves. The three pre-teens went up the hill to do their thing. Being a boy, Brett had no problem. Amanda apparently suffered no unfortunate consequences either. Ginny, though was not so lucky. She must’ve pulled her pants down, but not back. Her pants got soaked. Then we had to open the roof-top carrier, get down her bag so she could change, repack, etc.

About 11pm, the negotiations of who was going to sit where were finally finished, the bags repacked and I had found the back road I needed to take to get us to the highway. Doug is sleeping and I’ve settled in to drive for the first stretch. Just as I finally get us up to speed something huge jumped in front of the van. I stomp the brakes as hard as I could and swerved the car to the left. I didn’t have time to focus on what it was. Doug woke up and yelled “What the **** was that- a camel???!!!” (All I knew was it’s stomach was higher than the hood.) I later was told it was an elk. (I didn’t hit it, but now I needed to change my pants.) Elk are HUGE!

The whole way home all we ate were packs of Lance crackers which we purchased while we filled up the car. While dropping Ginny off at home I forgot to give her the jeans. While returning the van the next day I found her jeans. I threw them in the trunk of my car and there they stayed for almost 3 months. Have you ever popped open the trunk when there’s been a pair of urine soaked jeans marinating in it for 3 months? Martha would not say “It’s a good thing.” It’s a bad, very bad thing indeed. It took forever to get that smell out of the trunk. So what did we learn? Girls, always pull your pants back if you’re peeing on a slope. Elk are huge and really fast and never, ever, trust a nylon fanny pack. Words to live by.

Does this look familiar?

I am a woman who doesn’t like to shop. There I said it for all to know. I realize that I’m an anomaly; women are supposed to like to shop. I don’t like shopping for clothes, furniture, jewelery or even shoes. I can tolerate grocery shopping- if I can go to one of the “upscale” supermarkets. You know where they have the “artisan” breads and the stuff you just don’t find everywhere else. It’s not that I’m really dying for some lychees or eye of newt. It’s just more interesting to go to one of the markets that has speciality items, whether you buy them or not.

Unless it’s really cold and wet outside, seventy percent of the time I’m wearing a cotton shirt, shorts and Crocs flip-flops. (I live near Houston.) Since I’m self-employed I can just wear what I want. I’ve probably fallen, or jumped headlong into a fashion rut. I mean I know how to dress up-I’ve got silk blouses and high heels. Most days, though I just see Doug or perhaps Doug and Evelyn. (I guess I’d be a good candidate for a makeover.)

I was watching a short bit on fall fashion trends yesterday. (I thought perhaps I could add something new to my wardrobe for the fall.) A young fashionista came out to tell everyone about the one thing they had to have for the fall. You know what it was?-skinny jeans! She went on and on about skinny jeans like they’d just been invented. I remember my friends all putting on their tightest Gloria Vanderbilt jeans before going out to the club in the 80’s. (Mine were snug, for sure, but never so tight I had to lay down on the bed to get them zipped.)

There are a myriad of health problems that can be caused by wearing pants that are too tight. Some of them include: tingling thigh syndrome (No, this isn’t a good thing.), yeast infections, back pain, acid reflux, abdominal pain and constipation. Also, you can even develop a life-threatening condition called DVT, if you wear tight pants while immobile for long periods such as during a plane flight. And we must not forget one of the worst problems of all that can strike women who wear ultra tight pants- the dreaded cameltoe.

Much like the monks in Tibet, with age I now have wisdom-or at least a little wisdom. No longer will I let fashion endanger my health. But I don’t want to become a Glamour don’t and wear sweat pants either. There has to be a middle ground where fashion and health can happily co-exist. I just need to find it.