The other day, Lisa, my best friend during my senior year in high school (whom had already graduated and a year older than me, sort of like Matthew McConaughey in "Dazed and Confused," which made this friendship even cooler) sent me this link from the Wall Street Journal about miniskirts making a comeback. She pondered on Facebook, "What say ye Paula? How about old gals who still have great legs?"
Anyway, I responded, "I say this begs for great legs, appropriate at any age" (sorry, I can't resist the urge to bust a rhyme) which prompted this reply from Lisa, "Yeah, but just 'cause you can, doesn't mean you should. So crushing to get the "oh, old" double-take by young guys."
Ouch. Is a double-take worse than no take at all?
This is Lisa, at left, with her dog Ollie, after a run in Santa Cruz. "Oh, old" my ass!
That night at poker, I posed this very question to see what my friends "of a certain age" thought.
Laura, smoking-hot in every way, had a very similar story to Lisa's.
She said this: I walked up to a taco truck wearing big sunglasses and ordered my lunch. The friendly younger-than-me guy working the window (I'm 50, he was 30-something) was making chit-chat: "Hello, nice to see you, how's your day going? Blah blah blah" and abruptly asked, "How old are you?" I replied, "I don't think that matters." He says, "Take off your glasses." I lower my sunglasses and he says, "Oh", ended the conversation, hands me my burrito, and that was that.
On the one hand, it's nice to get attention from younger men, or really, any men at all, at this age. And I know, you're probably thinking, "Who the hell cares what men think?", or "Why should we need male attention to validate our attractiveness or sexuality?"
We shouldn't. But it sure feels good to have someone notice. Even if it precedes the "oh, old" reveal.
My advice to Lisa and anyone else pondering the miniskirt is this: The legs are the last to go. We've spent decades building them up, building families, building homes, running businesses, running after cats and kids, standing in line, standing for what we believe in, standing tall.
So ladies, grab the smallest mini and largest pair of sunglasses you can find (our homage to Laura) and work it. Next time a young man gives you the look, slide those super-sized shades down your nose and smile:
Ha! Made you look, sucker!
If any of you out there have similar tales to Lisa's and Laura's, we'd love to hear about them.
For more of our style musings were we give father time the finger, please visit us at Blank Stare, Blink.
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