Countdown to 40: T-Minus 44 Weeks
Posted On April 19, 2011
So, that’s it. I’ve officially thrown in the towel and succumbed to old age.
That’s right, people, the deed has been done and I feel that I must confess . . . I wore commuter sneakers today to work. Yep, I was professional from the ankles up, but from the ankles down, I was pure casual. White socks and tennis shoes. I just couldn’t take another day of my shin-splinting five block hike from my parking lot to the office, so I threw my flats in a bag, put on my Nikes and threw caution to the wind.
The problem is — I liked it. Sure, I looked like a buffoon, but I was a buffoon with a spring in my step.
But I’m afraid that now that I’ve crossed the line, it’s going to be a fast decline into total frump-hood. I’ll pick up a smart ruffled blouse with a bow around the neck here, and a nice pair of elastic-waist slacks there… And then “comfort” will begin to trump “style” in my daily wardrobe decision, and before you know it I’ll be showing up to work wearing a faux silk warm-up suit.
There’s just no turning back after that.
As my sister so sarcastically pointed out when I told her what I’d worn to and from work — at least I wasn’t also wearing a Walkman.