This isn’t really a post about getting a groove back. This is a post about body image.
I’m not a shopper. I don’t go to the store to see if there is anything I want to buy. I have also always been more inclined to spend hours in a bookstore, over a mall. (When they existed!) I have always been the type to only go to the store when I needed something or some things. Hell, I stopped Christmas shopping many years ago and started handing out Amex gift cards to avoid shopping!
Never a fan of malls or huge department stores, I did enjoy going to smaller boutiques and finding unique items that you would probably never find in a mall! I viewed fashion more like art and as a means of expression, as opposed to just something to put on. That type of shopping I used to enjoy.
I would pick up a few things each season. I would shop for special events and vacations. That is about it. It was never fun, but never traumatic. So, when did shopping become such a daunting and exhausting chore? When I stopped liking the way my body looks seems to correspond.
In a few weeks I would be traveling to the islands for an annual event. In an attempt to make international travel a little less stressful I decided that I was not going to check a bag. The challenge is how to pack for six days with just a carry on. My jewelry and shoes used to take up my carry on along with a few “In case they lose my checked bag,” outfits. My big bag was always overweight and filled with wayyyyy too many articles of clothing. It was just great to have options!
I came up with the idea that I would wear only lightweight sundresses in fabric that I could just roll up and throw in the bag. I could wear my work out clothes and gym shoes to travel and just wash them since I typically work out every other day.
Great plan! Except, I didn’t own 12 sundresses! Well, I am sure I do, but since my closet is now split between three locations and mostly packed away (long story) I would have no way of knowing where to find them. (It was a last minute trip as I was going to cancel the trip. Another long story.)
I needed to do a little shopping and luckily being in sunny California at the time, I thought I might still be able to find some sundresses on some sales racks! You can pretty much find all seasons of clothing here, but more so at certain times of the year. (And they wear them all at the same time ya’ll. Boots, scarves with shorts and tank tops. It’s confusing for us east coast folks used to wearing one season of clothes at a time!)
So off I went to the stores searching for those sundresses. I decided to focus on a few colors to keep the number of sandals I needed to pack to a minimum. For most, this would be fun! Not being a mall girl, I head to a few of my favorite boutiques where I typically could score some nice unique pieces at reasonable prices. There’s also a designer resale shop I frequent where more often than not, the clothes I pick up still have tags on them. It is LA for God’s sake!
Well, let me tell you. Who knew what a traumatic experience this trip would turn out to be? Why? Because what I loved on the hanger, I hated on my body!
I used to love showing off toned arms. They’re still toned! It is the armpits that now resemble wrinkled labia that bother me. The armpits and the elbows have become the issues.
It wasn’t an issue until I was having drinks with two male friends who on the prowl, as always, enlightened me by sharing with me that they could tell a woman’s age by her elbows. And of course, both of them close to my age, were interested in younger women. Sadly it’s a bit of an epidemic.
Until one of them made that statement, I hadn’t really given much thought to my elbows. I don’t even think I looked at my elbows for any reason other than to see if they were ashy! (For women who are not women of color…that refers to our dry skin that looks like we have been dipped in chalk and the remedy is lotion!) Thank you friends for that tidbit of knowledge that I have yet one more aging body part to be bothered by. They do look a tad like accordion blinds!
I found at least twenty really adorable items and tried them on. One issue was that they were “adorable.” Am I too old to wear adorable? Will I look like an older woman trying to look younger and adorable in this get up? But wait, just because I’m older, does that mean I have to wear some “older lady” uniform?
I used to like really flowy non-fitted clothes even when I was really tiny. I liked the look and the freedom. Now freeform looks like a Moo Moo and that I’m intentionally hiding things.
Once I filled out at 37!!!!! (yeah, 37) I felt comfortable showing off my curves. Now that I have this kangaroo-less meno-pouch, doesn’t look so hot! Curves in the front kinda bother me. Not to mention the bumps and bulges in the back. Strapless used to be cute on me. (Even though I hated it because I was always thinking it was going to come down!) I could rock strapless. Now with this bra fat spilling over the edges, not so cute on me! These things do not bother everyone and that is a wonderful thing. I need to get there!
I think my best feature is my legs, so I tend to prefer shorter dresses. (Settle down. Not that short!) They’re the part that I feel most confident about. Okay, well the bottom half! And that was before I got a good look at my knees that are also adorned with accordion blinds these days in a lovely shade slightly darker than the rest of me!
It was exhausting. I took my bag-less, dress-less ass to a wine bar a few doors down to drown my sorrows. Why was that experience so depressing and stressful? Why am I suddenly so uncomfortable in my body? By all accounts, I’m in pretty good shape. Do I need some therapy or just a second glass of wine? (Probably both!) Let’s try the Cabernet.
I’m supposed to be at my IDGAF age! (Figure it out! It’s text language!) Why do I GAF? I see so many bold, beautiful, confident women in all shapes and sizes. Why am I suddenly not one of them?

Why? Here’s one reason. Because we middle aged women are bombarded with messages telling us the way we look is unacceptable. Magazines tell us how to fight wrinkles. Freeze Fat! Cover this up! Cut that off! Don’t show this or that. Society views us as less desirable and useful. We become invisible. Men our age (And not all before you men get your boxers in a bunch!) want women our daughter’s age. If I had to guess, I would assume it is because of their own issues with aging.
We are hard pressed until lately (and we’re still largely absent) to find ourselves on TV or in movies. (“We” being middle-aged women) We grace the cover of plastic surgery magazines. Oprah is the only middle-aged woman you see monthly on a magazine and that’s because she owns the damn thing!
The only commercials we are in are the ones for antidepressants where we look like we have one foot in the grave or in a bathtub next to a guy with a bottle of erectile dysfunction meds. Or we are posing in front of the mirror in an adult diaper. (And we are not all astronauts! Oh. Only I remember that story?) It is no wonder we feel so bad about our aging bodies! Tell me it’s not just me. If it is, lie to me!
I cannot allow myself to sink down that rabbit hole. I definitely have one foot in, but I refuse to go any further. I must work on my body image issues. I must accept and embrace this time in my life and the body that I am in. That other one is gone.
Yes, I can improve the one that I’m in with some lifestyle changes, but I need to be happy in the skin I am in until those changes I wish to make are visible. And if those changes never happen, I have to work on being confident and happy as I am. Change is difficult. But beautiful beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. As we age our priorities shift, most often for the better! We start to worry a lot less about the stupid crap that used to consume us. That’s a fairly decent trade.
What is more important than how I look on the outside, is how I feel on the inside, both physically and emotionally. It is not about whether I feel like I’m too fat or too skinny, the question I need to concern myself with is, do I feel healthy? And If I don’t, I need to take action and that means mind, body and soul. But you really must learn to accept the things you cannot change and focus on the positive changes you can make. Besides, I totally believe this to be true. If you believe you look good, someone else will too, because confidence is sexy. Just saying.
I had two more weeks before my trip. I went back ladies. I’m no quitter. I told myself, I will not be naked on my trip! Unless of course, Stella decided to get her groove back! Then all bets were off!
Postscript: I wrote this a while back when I thought I might launch my blog. But here is the update. Stella didn’t buy one dress. Stella wore mostly cut offs and t-shirts the whole trip. Stella had way too much Sauv Blanc. The weather was crappy. And Stella didn’t get S#*t! Not a groove. No Winston. Nothing. Totally Stella’s fault.
There’s always next year. Maybe by then I will have adjusted my attitude with regard to body image.
How do you feel? What’s on your mind?












