The Unsung Delights of Middle Age, and No One Sends Me Flowers (Just Send Cash Instead ;))

backward swimsuit


Middle age has its distinct disadvantages, but there are some distinct advantages to be had for the cougar/geezer set that most people don’t think about.


1. No one asks (begs, coerces, etc.) you to be a bridesmaid in her wedding.  This is a very beautiful thing, considering the last time I had to do that was in 1993 , and I’m still pissed at my oldest sister for that outlay of cash and aggravation.

fugly dress

No, I’m NOT wearing that- or any other dress without sleeves.  Ever.

At my advanced age I don’t have to worry about it. Nobody in her right mind wants my freaky ass in her wedding pictures. My sisters are the only ones who didn’t let me decline the bridesmaid thing graciously. One has been married since 1993 (thank God because there is no amount of coercion that will make me do the bridesmaid thing again- ever) and the other is happily divorced.  Anyone else who makes that request, I can and will tell to go blow with impunity, but my friends pretty much know better than to ask.  I’ll gladly attend your wedding and even buy you crap, (or get you a Target gift card,) but that’s the extent of my involvement.

2. Aunt Flo doesn’t visit any more.  Not since the hysterectomy.  I couldn’t be more delighted with that.


coffee and boobs

Hot flashes suck- but I can wear white pants any time I want!

3. Older people have a certain amount of gravitas in dealings with the young and inexperienced.  I also have buff young college boys asking me if I need help with my groceries.  I don’t need help with my groceries, though it would be nice when I get home with them if Jerry didn’t disappear every time I’m unloading the car.

Young woman unpacking shopping bag in kitchen

I already brought in the cat litter, dog food, beer, (which I don’t drink) and 12 packs of pop.

Come to think of it, I don’t shit in the cat litter or eat the dog food either, but they don’t have thumbs.

Granted, nobody bothers to send me flowers but I have no idea what to do with them.  They sit on my desk for a few days, die, and then I throw them out.

ugly flowers

Just give me the cash.

Back in the day there was no such thing as political correctness in the clothing industry. We can all remember when fat boys’ clothes were called “Husky.”  I don’t think they have “Husky” sizes any more.


Even Lane Bryant doesn’t use the “Chubby” word anymore, even when referring to size Extreme Lard Ass.

Imagine the politically correct furor that would ensue should any clothier use an ad like the one pictured above.  Stand back and watch the fireworks.  However, in the 1950’s virtually nobody was fat, so this ad would only apply to a handful of girls rather than most of them.

I say just make everything a one-size-fits-all mu-muu if your ass is that huge.

A Rare Quiet Moment, Secret Speculations and Twists of Memory

It’s not terribly often that I have a sort of quiet day.  Usually I have more than enough to do, but today- not so much.  I sort of regret getting so much done on Saturday but then again, it’s always better to take the opportunity to get caught up than to take a chance on staying behind and having to scramble and rush to get things done.  It leaves me a bit bored today, but better to be bored once in awhile than constantly buried.

I have to come to terms with the reality that the seasons have changed- Fall Monsoon is in full swing with the cooler temperatures and torrential rain that occurs this time of year.  I can only hope that in the next few weeks there will be at least some opportunity for foliage-gazing and a road trip or two.  I should try to use some of my vacation time and just plain get out for awhile even if only for a day trip here and there.

If I had to choose a favorite time of  “fashion in history,”  it would have to be the 1940’s.  Having broad shoulders and a large chest weren’t liabilities back then, and women’s clothes were actually designed to fit women.

Everyone wore hats.  Way cool.  I love hats- and red lipstick, and dresses with sleeves.  Compare the above pic with modern “fashion” and you have a good case for the devolution of humanity.

I rest my case.  And these are supposed to be fashionable people, not the brain-dead zombies of Wal-Mart.

It’s no crime to be large.  I’m no Calista Flockhart either, but coverage is key.  Nobody wants to see your backfat, meaty arms, thunder thighs or love handles.  Just because people burned bras back in the 1960’s doesn’t mean going braless- or mistaking a flimsy little tank top for a bra- is a good idea.

I think that the unisex movement of the 60’s and 70’s led to much of the fashion confusion out there today.  Most heterosexual men don’t have a problem dressing like men simply because it doesn’t take a whole lot of thought.  T-shirts, flannel shirts, jeans, whitey-tighties, tube socks and velcro tennis shoes are all you need to complete a Straight Man wardrobe.  Straight men’s attire is boring, but it’s good for functionality and coverage.   It’s fat women and gay men who have the most potential for polluting the landscape with their wretched fashion choices.  Oh, and shug, eyeliner is for girls. Or is it that you want everyone to know that you’re the queen in this couple? Maybe you femmes are just happy to live out the fairy fantasy.  Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

Large women have the potential to dress most tragically-

Maybe I’m just sort of old and cranky and especially misanthropic today.  I didn’t even have to deal with too many of the unwashed masses, so I should be a bit more patient today, but I’m not.

Perhaps I remember a time when people had a little more pride in appearances, or I’d like to think so.  I did live through the 70’s, which was a decade that was to fashion as a trainwreck is to transportation.  I don’t think I could bear to wear those horrid thick waxy polyester pants ever again.  Especially if they are green, yellow, orange or brown.