Lately, it seems I’ve been pre-occupied with rather unusual things. Most intriguing, and certainly the one that had me distracted most, was turning 35. It’s true. Last week, I snuck over into the great, wide mid-thirties. Because I fully believe in embracing age and all of the milestones that come with it, I look at the fabulousness of the older generation, with high hopes and great vision. Tis true that gravitational pull declares war against me. I’ve begun to see dimples in the wrong cheeks, fine lines when I smile, increased consequences for poor food choices, and hints of grey. In many cases, clothing I used to like seems less suitable. I actually attended a committee meeting this week where I uttered the words “I’d totally wear that if I were 10 years younger.” Gosh, the years sneak up on you. Yet, rather than mourn the glory days of my youth, I strive focus on what I aspire to become as I graciously approach the fall and winter years. I explained this to my husband by saying, “One day, I will have a silver bob. I will not highlight it. One day, I will peer over the lenses of the most distinguished and sassy pair of bifocals. One day, I will buy a St. John Suit.”
Coincidence always has a way of finding me out, I suppose. For only two days later, I ventured into a thrift store (a newfound interest of mine), and discovered my very first St. John Knit, albeit premature, at a price point much less than my years. Funny, isn’t it? Hey, I ain’t too proud to dig! What a find!
Blouse: St John, Trousers: Ann Taylor Loft, Handbag: Kate Spade, Shoes: Tory Burch, Necklace: Stella&Dot, Watch: Michael Kors, Sunglasses: Tom Ford