tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184113562009-02-21T06:18:57.431-08:00aging boomerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02304117034592988972noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18411356.post-1131751441434446012005-11-11T14:49:00.000-08:002005-11-11T15:24:01.443-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4654/1801/1600/62253708_6124272d34.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4654/1801/200/62253708_6124272d34.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">It occurred to me today as I sat in a room full of clients and co-workers that dressing as a form of expression is a minefield at my age.<br /><br />Right now I struggle with looking my age vs. looking "current" which my daughter is quick to point out at every opportunity. We both shop at Victoria's Secret but I am about functionality and she is about aesthetics. I don't understand why she can't wear anything more than a year or two when I have a closet full of many generations of clothing that is still perfectly wearable (by my standards). Each of us has a different definition of "vintage" as well.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Exposing one's mid-section may be OK at 30 but is it OK for me? Will my client find low rise jeans, Puma shoes and a t-shirt acceptable apparel for both of us? I feel good and comfortable but have no idea what is going throught the minds of my 20 and 30 year old co-workers. I've managed to get past bad hair cuts, too much makeup, and the 80s and 90s but have I gone far enough or am I one of those women that people look at and say to themselves, "she really should act her age." </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18411356-113175144143444601?l=agingboomergirl.blogspot.com'/></div>aging boomerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02304117034592988972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18411356.post-1130538449531803242005-10-28T15:11:00.000-07:002005-11-11T15:29:25.620-08:00<span style="font-family: arial;">My father moved in with us just one year ago and things have been going well. It's wonderful having him but it has been a "learn as we go" experience for both of us. He went from living alone but surrounded by friends in Kansas to being the new member of his daughter's family of four in San Francisco with no friends nearby. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">This week's chapter started out with a visit to the Veterans Hospital and ended in major surgery and a week of trips back and forth to visit and keep his spirits up. Everyone talks about the sandwich generation but living it has become my life. With 2 children still at home - one in high school and one in college - I find myself exhausted at the end of the day with nothing much left to give. That's a normal day, but this week, my father's illness and the illness of a close friend who recently had surgery for a brain tumor, left me in pieces that I am desperately trying to hold together with a smile on my face.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18411356-113053844953180324?l=agingboomergirl.blogspot.com'/></div>aging boomerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02304117034592988972noreply@blogger.com