And then she said, you need to use more product in your hair, you know, for the sass factor. And probably quit washing it every day because that just makes it...blah
I've lost count of those moments in my life when I realize I am simply not cool, at least I'm not as cool as the people I'm hanging around at the moment when I come to the not cool conclusion.
When I think back on my life, I recall feeling pretty cool most of the time. Really. But in reality, I may have been deluding myself. Which is my prerogative, I suppose, and a delusion under which many of us labor.
Moments in which am acutely aware of being uncool:
Late night gathering in Son's dorm room with his peers, who brought wine and snacks and wholly modern perspectives and their passionate arguments and wow....these kids are dialed in and ready to change the world and I both envy and admire them. The future, if they have their way, is safe indeed.
Shopping with Daughter, whose sense of style is classic and elegant, yet in spite of that timeless quality and our similar views of clothes, she must dissuade me from repeating fashion faux pas after fashion faux pas...
Attending a baby shower of one of GG's former soccer players, and realizing I was unable to recognize any of the music they were playing..and I've always prided myself in my ability to identify songs/artists by only hearing one riff....but now that I think about it my sweet spot there is the 70's stuff...
Getting my hair styled by Erika the Brave. Her ability to assess and outline a plan for the style/color is similar to that of a surgeon reviewing xrays and cat scans prior to performing delicate surgery. As she's working her magic on me, I'm unaware of the conclusions she's come to while working with my hair. But the final conversation as she's styling it? Involves a gentle scolding, followed by a prescription for how to keep the sass of the cut alive and well until next I venture through her door.
Maybe my cool is relative? Like I'm cool for a woman rapidly approaching the 50 year mark? Or for someone who has lived the sheltered existence that I have? Or for a Mom of my generation?
I'm gonna stick with that and not look back.
When I think back on my life, I recall feeling pretty cool most of the time. Really. But in reality, I may have been deluding myself. Which is my prerogative, I suppose, and a delusion under which many of us labor.
Moments in which am acutely aware of being uncool:
Late night gathering in Son's dorm room with his peers, who brought wine and snacks and wholly modern perspectives and their passionate arguments and wow....these kids are dialed in and ready to change the world and I both envy and admire them. The future, if they have their way, is safe indeed.
Shopping with Daughter, whose sense of style is classic and elegant, yet in spite of that timeless quality and our similar views of clothes, she must dissuade me from repeating fashion faux pas after fashion faux pas...
Attending a baby shower of one of GG's former soccer players, and realizing I was unable to recognize any of the music they were playing..and I've always prided myself in my ability to identify songs/artists by only hearing one riff....but now that I think about it my sweet spot there is the 70's stuff...
Getting my hair styled by Erika the Brave. Her ability to assess and outline a plan for the style/color is similar to that of a surgeon reviewing xrays and cat scans prior to performing delicate surgery. As she's working her magic on me, I'm unaware of the conclusions she's come to while working with my hair. But the final conversation as she's styling it? Involves a gentle scolding, followed by a prescription for how to keep the sass of the cut alive and well until next I venture through her door.
Maybe my cool is relative? Like I'm cool for a woman rapidly approaching the 50 year mark? Or for someone who has lived the sheltered existence that I have? Or for a Mom of my generation?
I'm gonna stick with that and not look back.
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