Mortality Check

On Friday, I found myself standing in a dressing room in Brass Plum (Nordstrom's junior's department), plucking two gray hairs from my bangs. You heard me. Grays. Not "ultra-blondes" as Chuck likes to think they are. Grays.

Then, I tried on the latest in cute dresses for the summer and hung my head in shame. I'm too old to wear them. Much too old.

I can only assume that tapered black denim jeans paired with cracking white leather Keds and a stained Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt are in my near future.

Is it too early or too melodramatic to put up the white flag?


  1. I remember the day Kevin told me I was too old to be shopping at Abercrombie. Once I realized he was right I felt kind of dumb that I didn't realize it first. Just feel lucky you discovered it on your own:)

  2. I think I am still in denial...although I haven't gone into Abercrombie or Hollister or any of those stores for a while...mostly because my double-stroller can't fit. Maybe there is a reason for that!!!


Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

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