I’d like to think of myself as hip. Being that I just called myself hip I am pretty reassured that I am, actually, not. Nearing my 27th birthday and the first day of my new, corporate job, I’ve slipped into a strange shopping matrix that pulls me in opposing directions pretty consistently. On one hand, Forever 21 is mashing my eardrums with musical Molly and telling me to live fast and die young.
I tried my hand at a crop top or two but there they hang…in my closet…completely unworn. While mine don’t carry a message about life being “Cray all Day” they carry a nice little sub-message:
This betch is going through a mid-driff crisis. Also, she’s closer to 30 than 20.
As my dear friend so eloquently explained to me when she turned 30: “I’m sick of people saying you should stop doing things at a certain age. You know what you should be doing at your age? WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT!” If those aren’t words to live by, I’m not exactly sure what is. While I’m in full support of her ever-young mindset and thoroughly admire her for it, I can’t help but reconsider my wardrobe choices on my way to happy hour.
If I’m not frolicking around Orlando in crop tops and high-waisted shorts then what’s a life worth living, you may ask? Well, I’m not exactly at full blown Moo-Moo status but my other side is desperately lulling me into a pair of Reeboks for my trek over to Stein Mart. The most recent reason for my shoulder devil taunting me with curlers and track suits is my new job starting in a week. It’s beyond corporate and I’m pretty sure crop tops are not within their dress code. Considering this is also my first job within these parameters, the 5 year-old child within me (would be much creepier if a dude said that, no?) wants to dress like a professional, pant suits and all.
The question now remains, when do I know when to stop shopping at Forever 21? My scientific answer in the past month of retail research is never. While stores like Forever 21 might have youthful vibes, your life isn’t business professional 24/7. In the state of sweaty crotches for 3/4 of the year, wearing as little clothing in the summertime is not just a goal be a necessity. I don’t really care for “lady infections” and letting her get overheated is a sure fire way to turn yourself into a little bakery.
As I spend most of my free time scouring the racks of any store with an acceptably dressed mannequin, I realize it’s about balance. There might be days where I want to throw on a blazer and some pearls and take over the world. Other times, I’ll need to be able to nourish my cravings to be a sexy unicorn and a young one at that. Stacking my closet full of all moods I could possibly experience is not only rational but totally acceptable at any age.
But seriously, when is the sexy sweat pant store opening up?