Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Evermore

I just want to point readers to the sidebar and the blog called Pure Land Mountain. Bill Bradley is a wonderful writer, his observations are always beautifully worded. His take on his bit of the world -- a mountainside in Japan -- is always insightful, witty and can be downright wise. Reading his blog is a habit I urge on anyone who likes good writing.

My addictions to blogs wax and wane, I've noticed. Lately I've been more often, than previously, attracted to Ronni Bennett's Time Goes By [also on the side bar]. The subject this week has been the things we older women have stopped doing -- like wearing high heels and nylons. She's talking about it today and many comments support her point of view. I too have given up much but I was wondering this morning as I folded laundry and thought of my utilitarian night clothes that it's not necessarily good when we give up at least a touch of glamor. Right now it's too cold to be impractical and wear silky pajamas as I used to do. But in the nice weather I had begun wearing oversize tee shirts instead of something prettier and sexier. True, there's no one I'm sharing my bed with and so no one to entice with what little glamor might remain. But one of the mottoes of women getting older is "I dress to please myself, not for fashion." Tee shirts are easy to wear and wash. But so are pretty little nightgowns. Something deeper is going on and I think I don't like it much. It's a matter of self-image, not just convenience. This is taking some pondering.

1 comment:

pserean said...

Hi there, Miss June.

I think, sometimes, comfort is just another word for fear.
Fear of not recognising the other bit of ourselves....or perhaps, recognising it- and finding it too foolish to bear.

I love ballet pumps. They're comfy and cute and I grew up reading Noel Streatfield books, so the name alone makes me smile.
But mostly, I wear pumps because high heels make me nervous.
I'm suddenly taller- and standing out. I can't be a casual stroller anymore.
High heels don't fit the me in my head.

The point? not sure, really.
Just...that comfort might be somehing else.
Buy a red tee next time;)