Wednesday, December 20, 2006

What's young speak for ageing bat?

Remember those wonderful heady days of being a self-absorbed youth? When you didn’t care about the environment until the cute guy from Greenpeace came to hand out leaflets in your college? When you thought nothing of going to Parry’s Corner on your rickety moped at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Madras Summer’s day just so you could get t-shirts for your departments march drill on sports day? Even though you knew the BBA girls would turn up in shorter than short skirts with perky balloons and body parts and win the trophy. Remember when you cared enough to wax your legs in school, even though the only men on the premises were the near blind pot bellied watchman, the crotchety man in admin and canteen uncle? Remember what it felt like when you could still turn heads on the road?

I’m suffering from the early onset of ageing. I know, I know. It sounds implausible that at 26 I’ve suddenly become a relic from the Pliocene era. But this fossilisation hasn’t happened over night you know. Oh no. I’ve caught myself doing certain things more appropriate for an OAP for a while now.

Every time young girls in derriere grazing mini skirts and hot pants board a bus or train, giggling and texting one another I’m the first one to shake my head in disapproval (140 to Heathrow regular Doris is usually quick to join in, but she’s been in a neck brace for a while now). I’m only concerned for them of course. Frost bitten bums have never been particularly attractive to the opposite (and in some cases same) sex.

My once enviable knowledge of hip music (is hip still a socially acceptable word?) has also plummeted. Kooks were what we used to call crazy people back in the day. And the last time I checked, Arctic Monkeys were what oxygen deprived explorers mistook one another for on first arriving in those cold climes.

I always carry a sweater with me in case it suddenly gets cold. I only get my hair done once every six months. I have started to make my own kitchen cleaning solution (equal parts water and vinegar for those that are interested. Works like a dream). I bake cakes on birthdays and anniversaries. I plan menus for the week ahead, so that when I do grocery shopping I know exactly what I need. I DO GROCERY SHOPPING.

One would think that with all these signs I would have figured out much earlier that I was headed for premature hip replacement surgery. My only excuse is that I have also been blessed with mental faculties of an 80 year old. It takes me a while.

It struck home though when my husband came home last night. He opened a large bag and took out two bottles of Beaujolais and a Chablis.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“New Year gifts for the team from clients”

“What? Wine? No dried fruits like last year?” I whined.

And there you have it ladies and gentleman. Final proof that I should be put in a home with lavender walls and made to share a room with someone called Rose who thinks Thatcher is still Prime Minister. I actually wanted almonds instead of a nice red. I’m an ageing squirrel.

So today morning I said enough is enough! I will recapture my lost years! I will seize the moment! Etc etc. While having an affair with a younger person was ruled out (I might get thrown in jail given the age group I would have to prey on to have a suitably Stella getting groove back moment) I decided I would use the only weapons available to me. My shoes. Why, what did you think I was going to use?

So before I set off to complete a few errands I put on some eye liner and slid in to my red heels (I was also wearing clothes, just in case the above sentence makes it sound like that’s all I had on) and set out in search of my twenties.

*

In case you’re wondering I didn’t find them. They certainly were not at the post office, newsagent or hidden under the sack of basmati rice I bought at Tesco. I did however discover the biting cold. And remember what I said about frostbitten bums not being very attractive? Well frost bitten toes aren’t that hot either.

19 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ha ha!! Am asking myself the same q at the ripe old age of 28 - go figure! One solution to this OAP-like feeling is work amongst geriatrics!

Oh, I'd rather you SEIZED the moment rather than ceased! Carpe Diem and all that!!!

Happy holidays!

The ramblings of a shoe fiend said...

:D Error corrected! Hope you enjoy the holidays too!

B o o said...

Ha ha ha! Good one Shufy! I discovered the same about myself when I was 23, went out with girl friends and discovered that we were nt the loudest group anymore! Sigh! :(

Vi said...

You're 26 years young, not 26 years old. Or that's how I think of it, anyway.

Posts like these make me feel so much younger than I already am. :P

Anonymous said...

If you feel this way at 26, how would you be feeling at my age? -- not that i am a granny, but just a decade older to you. *sigh*

As desigirl says, seize the moment and enjoy your life now.. Thats what counts my dear!

shub said...

hahaha :)
she moves in her own way... :P

Anonymous said...

basing on your posts, I feel that you are definitely much more attractive than the teeny something bummy girls with oor without frost bites....:) Your blog is my latest find, and I am really becoming a great fan of it. How I wish I could write like that!!! sigh...

The Inquisitive Akka said...

You feel this way at 26??How I wish I were still 26!Now that I am on the right side of the 30s, 26 sounds like..... well it just sounds awfully young! :)

Shyam said...

Hmm.. frost-bitten toes COULDNT be hot if they tried, could they, Shoefie maami? :)

Nice to read a longer-type post!

sapphire said...

I am 26 and can really, really understand what you saying...in my post i call it mean age just a stone throw away from old age!

The ramblings of a shoe fiend said...

boo - see, i knew there would be others who understood!

vi - young strumpet! :P

Vidya - now tell me, how did YOU feel at 26?

Shub - yes, she moves with a hobble!

Anon - why thank you!

Akka - :P 26 is the new 46! didn't you know?

Shyam - Clever clogs :P

Sapphire - More company! We should start our own club!

Arz000n said...

I DO GROCERY SHOPPING.
At 26, trust me Im going thru exactly the same phase....and when you mentinoed about TESCO and GROCERY n all...I was kinda relived...am not the only one going thru this phase...hehehe :))

Which reminds me...time for me to visit TESCO in this cold evening...I need groceries now :(

Greeetz....

Akira said...

Shoefie loved it!....personally I'd like to be 23 forever... :)..purrfect place to be na..

Terri said...

Only 26? Why, you're practically a baby in my book :)

Jokes apart, you have a wisdom beyond your years, Shoefi.

kaaju katli said...

You are hilarious. Loved this post 25 post :D
Signed,
a relic

anjali said...

Open toed heels in the winter...what were you thinking??!!! A pair of knee-high boots will do the trick too. That's my sure fire therapy for the winter months. There is no ailment in this world that a gorgeous pair of heels cannot resolve. :)

Achtlandia said...

i felt i was going thru the same thing at 24...ageing comes even earlier now! until u whined abt dryfruits when u got wine. i'll believe in wine over water till im 80...

Dog's Best Friend said...

Just wait till you have a baby. Flat shoes will be all you wear so you can run fast enough to catch that wayward child...HIgh-necked clothes will be a godsend coz your kid will be constantly trying to pull your top right down to your belly button ...
Then when you are appropriately attired in granny-necked clothes and flatter than flat shoes...you can tell us again how much older than 80 you feel.
I think I've hit 320...

Shripriya said...

Stella as in Stella Maris?