When I was working my clothing was professional yet stylish. I was a semi-fashionista (as opposed to a fascist fashionista…you know, those naysayers of comfortable clothing?) and always looked pretty darned good.
Since retirement, though I have been wandering off into the caverns of comfort…yoga pants..scrub tops…fleece. All the comfy clothing that looks absolutely horrible on anyone over the age of two.
All the clothing my mother hated…all the things I swore I would never wear. I just knew that comfortable clothes were a sort of gateway drug into the leagues of the Walmart ladies and no way was I ever going to end up on a website with them!
The nice clothing was worn to the store..the library..to community meetings. Never would I wear anything resembling comfort (think fleece here) out in the “real world”……it was strictly to lounge around the living room. Except, upon retirement, adult supervision has melted away…yes, there is no one to stare or shake their heads at the garments that now adorn me.
And the once “only worn at home where no one can see me” clothing have come out of their closets and paraded through town.
I used to think the world would end should I be seen without a tailored suit..a flirty blouse and those three-inch heels……. I had a serious job and needed to show it to the world, but as retirement has gone on the self-imposed rules have diminished over time until I now find myself wandering through wally world in yoga pants and scrub tops!
And you know what? No one cares. The world didn’t end. No one seeing me instantly vomited. No one looked askance at me for wearing comfy clothing. I am thinking next time I go out I will fail to put on a bra and see if worlds collide….or if anyone notices.