Mirror, Mirror, Who is That?

     I don’t like to shop.  Let me rephrase that, I don’t like to shop for me.  I have a hard time finding clothes I like.  Maybe I’m too picky.  Maybe I don’t care.  In reality, I’m a blue jeans girl in a fashionista world.  My idea of looking presentable these days is a newer pair of jeans with a comfortable top.  I appreciate good fashion, and I like watching Project Runway, but the whole ordeal of finding something to wear is exhausting and frustrating.  There are times however, when an occasion arises that forces me into the mall.

     Recently I was invited to a wedding.  Looking in the closet, I realized I hadn’t bought a dressy outfit in about 10 years.  Some still fit, but none seemed suitable enough to wear to a winter event.  So, I eventually decided to hit the mall.  I was determined to find something.  I walked the entire length, went into every store, and eventually landed in Macy’s.  I was surprised to actually find a few dresses to try on given the fact that many were for a much younger woman or, for a much older woman.  Being in that middle age range is like falling into the black hole of apparel.

    I was appreciative that the saleswomen didn’t follow me into the dressing room.  I know what I like, and know if I like how it looks on me.  I hung my selections on the hook, undressed, and turned around.  Maybe it was the glow of the fluorescent light.  Maybe it was the multiple angles in which I was given the opportunity to observe myself.  Maybe it was because I was tired and in bad need of a haircut.  I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.  Suddenly I looked so much older than I do in my mirror at home.  Suddenly I looked about 10 pounds overweight.   I looked like a cross between a before picture and a mug shot.  Who was that stranger looking back at me?

    After getting over the initial shock, I found a nice dress and was happy with my purchase.  The next week I got a haircut.  For some reason, it always makes me feel lighter and energized.  The wedding was fun (more in another post) and I had a great time.  Last week I was thinking about the eyes we look out with.  The eyes that make an effort to be happy, smile, and enjoy life as well as deal with hard times.  The eyes that observe all around us and help us make wise decisions.  The eyes that look toward the future, reminisce about the past, and watch generations move along.  Aging of the body is a natural process in which we have no control.  More important is how we feel, how we live, and what we experience.  The mirror doesn’t show us that.

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