Old Hags with New Rags
Yesterday Mrs. Donkey and I were at the “Outlet Stores,” you know, the malls that you have to drive an hour to get to only to be charged the same price for clothes you could’ve got at the mall 10 minutes from your house? Yeah, one of those places.
So I’m walking behind Mrs. Donkey like a zombie, trying to stay in my “Happy Place,” when I notice something odd. There’s this chick standing with her back to me and there’s something just not right about her.
- Cool jeans with tears in them: Check
- Tight-fitting blouse with jacket: Check
- Long black hair: Check
- Those stupid fuckin “ski boot” shoes: Check
- Stooped over and “shuffling” instead of walking: Wha??
That’s when I passed by her, and saw this:
…accept wearing a pair of those huge “Paris Hilton” sun glasses.
Here was a woman in her 70s (at the least) trying desperately to look 30. This is a phenomenon that as far as I know only exists in the US, and Christ is it funny. What these women fail to realize is that, instead of looking “dope” and “down wif it,” all they’re doing is attracting unwanted attention to their age. Where I would have usually just passed by this kindly, elderly woman, I’m now actually FORCED to notice how damn old she is, thanks to the juxtaposition between her clothes and age. Ahh, sweet irony.
Above: “West Side Rollas, Biatches!!!”
It’s truly unfortunate that we live in a culture that puts this level of pressure on women (and men) to look young. But by the same token, these women should really know better. There’s something to be said for growing old gracefully and maintaining your dignity. It worked for the great Bea Arthur:
On second thought, scratch everything I just said and get your asses to a tanning booth and a Gap, stat.
