I hereby admit to an absurd nail polish color addiction. I love the milky, opaque Laffy Taffy purple on shelf 3 at the manicure salon. I'm insane for glinting, swirling green pearls and shimmering yellow liquid in square bottles. Gunmetal? Slap it on me. Black? Did it 20 years ago and did it again last year. 1985 Pontiac purple? A signature color. But blue? Blue's my weakness. If blue were a girl she'd be the one I smoked cigarettes and drank whiskey with in the backseats of cars after I dropped out of high school. That color's like a haze of everything dreamy, sexy and wistful to me and it screams rock and roll. So when I walked into a nail salon last night and spotted my crown jewel -- a bottle of genteel, sophisticated, starkly contemporary Tiffany blue polish awaiting my ragged square fingertips -- little tattoo swallows took flight above my head.
And there ends the fairytale. Even though the cosmo I sipped was delightful and my celebrity trash magazine appropriately devoid of humanity, I still ended up flat on my ass.
My nail technician raved about the color all through the pedicure. We shared fits of flighty laughter over its flirty hue. I let the therapeutic vibe carry me all the way to the manicure chair and then...she said it.
"Beautiful color. Younger girl." And there it was. Of course she meant for a younger girl. And naturally I did what I always do when people embarass me in public. I pretended she hadn't. I even took the time to craft a good humored reply: "I am a younger girl. In my heart." There I went again, overcompensating for my own discomfort by accomodating someone else's faux pas.
'And so,' I thought, 'here we are. I've arrived now at a time when people are going to talk about my age. In front of other people. Like it's something I'm fine with and everybody's in on. Like back in the day when everyone wanted to talk about my body as if we all shared the same fucking feelings about it.' I think I knew we were headed for this day last year when my boss reminded me that I'm just "not that young, you know." Or even four years ago when a dermatologist told me that "twenty eight is absolutely not too young for Botox."
So, I'm curious, do people say this kind of stuff to men? I mean, when my husband went to buy his skull and crossbones socks at H&M did the clerk say "funky cool socks, man...for a younger boy." Absolutely. Fucking. Not.
All the usual cliches have come surging forward. "You're only as old as you feel." "Age is just a number." And then I think of what my grandmother always said and I like it best: "growing old is not for sissies."
I really love the concept of aging with grace and a sense of humor. And I find that with each passing year I certainly grow into myself with greater ease. But I'll admit I'm shocked to find that I'm doing a fair bit more thrashing about than I expected to. I'm apparently not fine with a number of the things that accompany "getting on in years."
But let me be abundantly clear about one thing: that is not why I wear blue nail polish. For that matter, it's not why I wear red lipstick, red glasses, silver eyeshadow or an ever-changing array of hair colors. I'm not longing for my younger self or trying to capture a feeling I used to have. Nope. I wouldn't go back there. I wouldn't want the feelings I used to have ever again. My life is about now.
I'm looking at the color this afternoon thinking its a pretty righteous badge of the current me. It's not the angry blue black of my past or the hopeful, billowy blue my granddaughter might ask to borrow. It's just what I wear. Without apology. For the girl I was, the girl I am, and the girl I'll always be.
6 comments:
My Goodness! What is wrong with this world? Blue nail polish for "younger girls", acting role for 40 something year old given to a 30 year old!!??! I feel at a loss of words...this madness has to come to an end. I will fight this fight with you my friend...tooth, nail and blue polish. xoxo D
As a sixty-something, I'm here to tell you to stick to your guns. Declare here & now that you'll be who you are no matter what. The world is filled with shrink-wrapped jerks who want nothing more than to distract themselves from their own crapulance by making rules for YOU! Fight-fight-fight. You look gorgeous in blue anything. Love--
Just because other timid thirty somethings claim they are content with a french manicure and "age appropriate" (read diminutive) makeup is no reason for you to hide your fire under beige and white polish.
My grandmother wore shocking red nail polish and outrageously colored hats until she died. I have fond memories of proudly displaying my childish hands because people told me I had nails like my grandma's. Upon her death I inherited the Orange and Vibrant Pink elbow length gloves she wore to church.
We do colorful in my family, at all ages, regardless of social opinion.
I will not hide my Thigh High rainbow striped toe socks under a pair of "mom pants"! I will wear them with a pair of shorts and stare down those who only wish they could be so bold.
You should do the same with your blue nails. I am certain they are fantastic. I can't wait to see them.
Ok, so I've been thinking a lot about this concept... I actually went to bed thinking about it last night... and the conclusion I've settled upon, is that too often, our society, our culture, our age group, confuses the lust for life assosiated with youth... for youth.
It's not! It doesn't have to be! Searching for, attaining, maintaining life affirming experiences, purchases, conversations, relationships, adventures, does not equal immaturity/desperately clinging to something that we're supposed to outgrow...
I'm realizing as I age, that I have a very adventurous spirit that I feel is owed nourishment... You're quite obviously the same way, Kate... and if beautiful ice blue turquoise nail polish is something that nourishes that in you, then mother f&cking stock up sister...
It's not "for a younger girl"... it's for a woman who knows what she likes, and what brings her closer to the lust for life she is learning to maintain.
Thank God for the adventurer in you... it's not "youth", it's a lust for life, a lust for inspiration, a lust for constant renewal.. and that is brave, and unique, and amazing.
PFTTTTTT....I know this is a post from a couple months back.....but what the hell!!?? Wear your nailpolish. People tell me im too old at 22 to wear floral prints or do a "girly" look. People say at 22 its time to cut the long hair and act my age. so what........do we all peak at 21 and then start wearing elastic waisted jeans, and iron on cat print shirts?
At each milestone in my life after my 16th birthday (18, 20, 21, 25, 29, 30), I've waited in dread for some rude bitch to come along and "helpfully" play fashion police. Usually these women aren't especially fashionable or attractive themselves, and they're projecting their own insecurities on to you.
I used to give up things I loved to wear in anticipation of becoming too old for them. ("Is this my last mini skirt year, or was that last year...?")Out went furry earmuffs, Hello Kitty t-shirts, pants from the army/navy store, years before I was ready to part with them in my heart. Then years later, I'd see someone older than me wearing it and looking just fine.
Thirty-two is young. Check out what our contemporaries in Hollywood are wearing.
And if it is any consolation, my dermatologist gives Botox to girls as young as 16. It's "preventive."
Oh, and long hair is ageless, as long as it suits your face and it isn't SO long and shapeless that it makes your everyday attire (a business suit, for example) look dumb.
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