It was a petty thought.
I saw a lady crossing the street today wearing a beautiful flowery empire waist blouse. I thought, "How pretty" -- that is, until I looked down and saw that she was wearing black Lycra leggings. With thighs the size of tree trunks.
I thought, "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." How many times had I and my college girlfriends said this among ourselves when we saw some poor fashion victim?
Then I had to laugh, because this applied to me, too. So, in the interest of personal honesty, I'm going to disclose things I don't wear under the rule of, "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."
Skinny jeans. For one obvious reason -- I ain't skinny -- and one not-so-obvious reason: I'm knock-kneed. I'd look like a walking X chromosome if I wore skinny jeans.
Leggings. For reasons different than the flowery blouse lady. I have cellulite more powerful than Lycra and Spandex. My behind refuses to be contained by artificial constraints.
Bras without underwire. Because after forty, even the little ones begin to sag. Sorry to share that, my young, small-breasted sisters.
Military-inspired jackets. I had a guy friend once tell me I had the shoulders of a defensive lineman. Another told me I had swimmer's shoulders. East German swimmers, that is. Not something I'd like to highlight.
Gladiator-type shoes of any kind. Imagine the sexiest gladiator-style stiletto sandals. Now, imagine those same shoes on a cow. That cow's hooves? My ankles. Nothing sexy about that.
Tattoos. One, I'm middle-aged. Two, because I would have, say, five, maybe ten years tops before that tattoo starts to wrinkle. A wrinkled tattoo is not sexy.
Low v-neck shirts. Alaska has its "Bridge to Nowhere." Me in a low v-neck shirt is the "V-neck to nowhere."
So the next time I have the audacity to judge some woman's poor fashion choice, I will remind myself that, "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should" applies to me, too. And I have no excuse because I know better.
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