Thursday, August 15, 2013

Suburban outfitters

Listen carefully, because I'm about to share a stunning piece of information with you. Life as a woman is no picnic. Sometimes, it's even hard. Pregnancy? Sure. Childbirth? Oh yeah. However, I'm not talking about those. There is another, possibly even bigger horror, that all of us women have to experience on average of once a year. Once a summer. Usually around the end of May, beginning of June.

What is it? Oh yes. The annual trip to the fitting room to TRY ON A BATHING SUIT.

It's cruel, it's unnatural, and yet, it's sadly necessary. I thought we were so enlightened in this day and age, so sensitive to the needs of others and all about making life easier. Unfortunately, set foot in a dressing room and you could instantly be transported back 30 years and everything looks the same (except for your smart phone sitting on the little shelf).

The new-bathing-suit trip, for me, had become a much more infrequent trip in recent years. However, this year we decided to purchase the family membership to the local water park/pool. After a couple of visits and coming face-to-face with friends and acquaintances who live in town, sometime in the middle of summer I decided that I was going to need a brand-new bathing suit for such a visit. After not having been bathing suit shopping in a couple of years, I was humorously slightly excited to do so. How quickly we forget.

First of all, a body which has not seen the sun in the nine months that have elapsed since the end of last summer should NOT be exposed to fluorescent lights. Why do they have fluorescent lights in fitting rooms, anyway? I'm going to go ahead and assume that it's because they're a) really bright and b) cheaper than other kinds. Either that or department stores have an evil sense of humor.

So, I really think that the most compassionate thing to do would be for the store to offer a free spray tan immediately prior to the bathing suit trial. It's only fair. It doesn't have to be dark. I don't have to look like a model from the old Coppertone ads. Just a little golden glow, just so that my skin doesn't look like I died last week and so I'm not able to trace with my fingertips the exact path from the veins in my wrists all the way up to my heart. I'm not asking too much here. JUST A LITTLE SPRAY TAN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Barring that, how about ditching the fluorescent lights? Sure, they provide very bright light so that you can see every little thing. On the downside, they provide very bright light so that you can see every little thing. See the difference? Do they really think we women want to be illuminated like that? I want that kind of light if I'm reading a book. I don't need to play dot-to-dot with my moles. Why not just give me 3D glasses and really scare me?! What stores SHOULD do is use soft, warm, off-white light. Maybe even rose-colored light. With music playing, fresh flowers, a glass of wine, and perhaps even the sound of ocean waves crashing in the background. That's right, I want it to be a complete spa experience. You want to sell more bathing suits? Do all that and I promise your sales will quadruple. But as it is, right now, instead of crashing waves, pass by any fitting room and you're more likely to hear either horrified screaming or the gentle weeping of a woman who genuinely did not realize until this moment just what happened to her body over the course of the winter.

I was prepared. I was prepared not to take a peek in that mirror until I was completely clad in a new suit and not a second before. This worked for the most part, although I was still required to actually see myself at some point in what could be a good suit choice... or what could be a bad one. The worse the suit, the faster it must come off, of course all the while averting your eyes. One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes was where he talked about the difference between "good naked" and "bad naked." Well, I think we all realize that trying to bend and contort your body into and out of a bathing suit, sadly, typically results in bad naked.

So I looked at myself in my newest contender. It wouldn't have been bad except that it felt too tight. Looked at the tag and... oops. Accidentally picked up a size too small, and that's certainly not going to help the situation. As I crossed my arms and attempted to pull the top over my head, I realized that getting out of this contraption was going to be harder than I'd thought. Do you ever reach that fork in the road during the whole fitting-room experience where you have to make a decision: pop my shoulder out of joint or stay in this top until they cut me out of it? I had reached that point. I didn't want to be cut out of it, for obvious reasons such as a) a store employee seeing me naked and b) having to purchase a cut-up bathing suit. What does one do with shredded spandex, anyway? You can't make dust rags out of it. Not very absorbent. In fact, all I can come up with is fashioning several tiny bathing suits for Barbie, which would please Colette but I really don't want to spend that much on doll clothing.

Thankfully it didn't come to that. Luckily for me, I'm pretty flexible, and I was able to pretzel my way out of the suit with a minimum of sound effects and prayers to God. After all, I didn't want to scare my fitting room-mates. I can only hope there were no hidden cameras and that I won't find myself unwittingly appearing on YouTube.

I only ended up buying one suit that day. I did find two pieces that pleased me enough to buy them, and after briefly being held hostage in the other suit, that was enough for me for one day. In retrospect, however, I probably should have soldiered through and bought at least one more just so that I could avoid another shopping trip for an extra year. But who knows, maybe they'll listen to me and provide a more calming, serene fitting-room experience for us women who already have it so hard. I could make a phone call. Maybe write a letter or leave feedback on their Web site. Or maybe I'll just let the hidden camera footage speak for itself.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

How NOT to feel old, or, how to feel younger than some trees and landmark buildings

I recently read a blog post entitled "How to Feel Old." It was about all of these fun little factoids like how the baby on the cover of Nirvana's "Nevermind" album is now 21 years old. The same kind of thing that comes out every year, talking about how old this year's college freshmen are and how they don't remember life before the internet and the like. So the blog had all this type of chuckle-worthy crap designed to make you feel like hanging yourself just because the cute little kid with glasses from Jerry Maguire now looks like he should be starring in Magic Mike.

I just don't understand these things. "How to Feel Old." Do I really need a guide? With each passing birthday, with each new silver hair that I spot in the mirror, with each new "big" high school reunion that rolls around, do I really need a tutorial on how to feel old? Because I'm learning that all on my own, I'm sorry to say. I don't need the aptly self-named "Scary Mommy" terrorizing me with new ways in which to realize the years are passing faster than they ever have before.

I don't need to learn how to feel old. Why doesn't someone help me out with how to feel young? No one seems interested in that. I guess it's boring journalism. It doesn't shock and quicken the pace of one's heart rate, which as we all know is dangerous for the elderly anyway.

I guess it's up to me, then.

HOW TO FEEL YOUNG*

* Some or all of these may not apply to you, just me, which is all that really matters.

1. Catherine Zeta-Jones, Jennifer Aniston, Salma Hayek and Jennifer Lopez are all gorgeous and seem not to have aged at ALL in the past 15 or so years. Think about THAT! Plus, they are all older than I am! Marginally so, but they are. (This is one of those "may not apply to you" facts.) And no, I don't care to hear about all of the professional hair, makeup, lighting, personal trainers, and anti-aging products and procedures that they have available to them.

2. The vast majority of my literature books from college are still in like-new condition. It's like I just used them yesterday! (This may or may not have to do with the fact that the vast majority of them also have not been cracked open since then.) If you have any well-preserved books from college stored in your basement, dust them off and place one or two on your end table. Hey look, you've got some studying to do!

3. If you have lived a normal life and therefore not worn a bikini to the beach for the past 20+ years, go into a private room right now, lift up your shirt and look at your stomach. Behold! Smooth, creamy (and likely dead-body white, if you're anything like me) baby-like skin. See that? That's not old-person skin! That skin could rival my 5-year-old's. I'd like to take that skin and put it on my face, in fact. Ok, so that idea kind of goes against what I'm trying to accomplish here.

4. Spend lots of time around old people. Older relatives, especially - people who have known you a long time. They'll say things like "You're too young to remember this, but..." and make lots of references to old music and pop culture. This will give you the opportunity to shrug your shoulders and say, "Nope, sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about. That was before I was born." You will also be the youngest one in the group. Very satisfying.

5. Blast the 80s station on XM radio in your car like I do. Since all they play is 80s music all the time, after a while your mind may be tricked into believing that you're actually a teenager again. Depending on your age you can also utilize the 70s, 60s, 50s, and (congratulations!) 40s stations. Just don't look in the rear-view mirror.

6. Chocolate, lots of chocolate. This won't necessarily make you feel younger but you won't care so much about your age.

7. If anyone says anything to you like "You're young at heart" or "You're only as young as you feel," or, God forbid, ANY mention of aging gracefully, smack them with one of the heavier college books we talked about earlier. Since it's on your end table it should be within reach. This will accomplish two things: the speaker will get the abuse he or she so rightly deserves, and swinging that book may bring back fond memories of good-natured late-night fights with your old college roommate. What fun!

All of these things should be done very close together, and in the event of a birthday, all at once the night before and morning of your birthday. So... enjoy good music, great chocolate, spend time with friends and family and reminisce all you want and you too will feel as young as you deserve to feel. Just remember to eat your fiber, slather on the moisturizer and floss your teeth before a reasonable bedtime. We may still be young, but we have to work at it.