Return of the Mom Jeans (Oh, How I've Missed You!)
This falls into the category of "other assorted retirement activities" as in reorganizing the fall/winter closet. Yes, don't judge, I have two closets, one for the aforementioned fall/winter clothes and a second for the sweatshirts and spring/summer clothes. With the culling of the fall/winter clothing, however, I might need to consider moving the sweatshirts to the fall/winter closet although sweatshirts, for me, are a year round item of clothing.
The past two weeks, I've had the pleasure of teaching a few classes. When I teach or speak in public, I feel compelled to wear a dress. Hence, on the evenings I taught, I pulled out a dress. And heels. Again, don't judge. Remember, I'm 65 1/2 years old and came up through the ranks when NO ONE wore jeans to work unless it was Casual Friday and even then, if you were an administrator, you thought twice about wearing the jeans. (Once you crossed the line, however, you seldom went back. A staff member once reminded me that I interviewed her in a sweatshirt and jeans. On a Friday, of course.)
The wearing of the dresses is not what precipitated the closet rearrangement.
Yesterday it snowed here for the first (but not last) time this season. It wasn't a bad snow; I wouldn't even assign it to the nuisance category. Right now our yard looks quite lovely as the evergreens have remained frosted with snow. So are all the leaves on the ground, as the spousal unit reminded me. If you read the previous post, you'll remember my concern regarding feeling tested as the weather turned colder. I was quite pleased with myself that I could appreciate the beauty of the snow and even enjoyed the sounds of shoes and tires crunching the iciness. Pleased enough to trot over to Covered (covered.com) where my youngest daughter, Bridget, occasionally works and was in the store for the afternoon. (She also is an amazing stylist and you don't need to be less than sixty to benefit from her eye and expertise. See her work on Instagram @whatwouldbiddydo or on the Covered Facebook page.)
A couple weeks ago, Biddy pointed out that she was wearing Mom Jeans which, in the vocabulary of the fashionista, means a pair of jeans with a (gasp) high waist. Do you have any at the store that would fit me? I asked. Of course she did.
(Disclosure: I've been wearing jeans from Covered for more than a few years. Yes, they're expensive and yes, I'm vain enough that I like how I look in them. Enough said.)
When I arrived at Covered yesterday, Bridget had started a room for me and pulled a few pairs of jeans. As they ask all their customers, she inquired if I would like a beverage. Oh, a Casamigos and Tres Agave margarita topped with a lot of club soda? But of course! I grabbed a couple sweaters so as to have something to wear with the jeans other than my sweatshirt (standard issue uniform these days accompanied by sweat pants--haven't quite managed to embrace the athleisure trend).
As I slid my legs into the first pair of jeans, I was overcome with a feeling of giddy reminiscence, not unlike walking into your grandmother's house and inhaling the scent of her famous and beloved cookies. I pulled the jeans up and the waist band sat on my waist, not below it, not on my hips, but on my waist! (Okay, I know there are many brands of jeans out there that have this feature but you read the disclosure.)
I actually squealed with delight, which might give you some sense of how little it takes to make me happy these days.
Oh, Mom Jeans. How I've missed you.
And because she is an amazing salesperson, Biddy brought in a pair of shoes and boots, just so I could see what the jeans would look like with a decent pair of shoes instead of the sneakers that are part of the day to day uniform. And because she is an amazing salesperson, she managed to "upsell" me these very adorable slip on shoes. (I have a box of summer sandals that will be going downstairs into the basement playroom for the little girls to trot around in.)
And because I was emptying the Covered shopping bag, I decided it was a good opportunity to re-sort the closet.
Let's go back to the closet for a second.
Is there something symbolic about putting the dresses in the back of the closet rather than in arms reach when stumbling about to get ready to go to work? But of course. How did I feel when I moved them? I believe I said to each, "Well done, good and faithful servant." (Not to be blasphemous).
Truly, I love slouching around in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. My son-in-law Darin, married to Bridget, once said to me when I came over to their house in said outfit, "Thanks for dressing up." He soon stopped saying that, I'm guessing because he came to expect nothing less. Not unlike putting on some make up and earrings and popping in the contacts rather than wearing my glasses, getting OUT of the sweatpants and sweatshirts feels as if it is a necessary push to stay connected to the rest of the world. It's the concept, I think, of not letting oneself go. There was a video going around Facebook in the past couple months of a General speaking at a commencement address. One of his recommendations was to make your bed every day, which just gets the motor running and sets you on a productive path. Not that you can't be productive in sweatpants and a sweatshirt (which is what I'm wearing right now) but I'll admit I feel different when I'm wearing jeans and a sweater and decidedly different when I'm wearing a dress and heels. This may all seem superficial and shallow and artificial. But in the Staying Connected class I teach, one aspect is the importance of staying connected to yourself. Just because you're retired doesn't mean you've now forgone and buried all those components you've been nurturing and cultivating for lo these many years.
Years ago, at a social event, I was making the obligatory small talk with another woman who asked what I did. At the time, I was working part time but chose to say that I was mostly home with my children. She literally turned on her heels and walked away.
I don't want to be dismissed like that ever again. And I've seen it happen to people who, when asked what they do, say they're retired. The other person often laughs and says something to the effect that you're living the life of leisure. One interpretation: you've washed and rinsed your brain out to dry.
No. No way.
Is foregoing sweatpants and sweatshirts, and swiping on blush and lip gloss, a method of ensuring I won't be underestimated? Perhaps. Do I need those Mom Jeans to be formidable? Of course not.
But I do look damned good in them. And not just for being 65 1/2.
Cooking:
I'm not a big chili fan, but my oldest daughter, Molly, makes a very delicious chili which is bubbling away in the crock pot--a perfect Saturday night dinner when the temperature is in the 30's and we'll have a fire roaring in a little bit.
1 1b. ground beef, browned and drained
2 onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 15 oz. cans tomatoes
1 15 oz. can tomato sauce
1 T chili powder
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
2 cans red kidney beans, rinsed and drained (I substituted 1 can pinto beans for one of the cans of kidney beans)
Put all ingredients into the crock pot. Cook on low for 6 hours.
Turn heat to high. Mix together 2 T cornstarch with 1/4 c water. Add to chili, stir well. Uncover and cook on high for about 15 minutes.
Serve by itself with some good crusty bread or over rice or pasta.
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