The other day, I heard a guest preacher speaking about how he loved being 52. In essence, he commented on how liberating it was to grow older; how one tends to care less about appearance and more about the important things in life. I realize not everyone will agree with him, but I do. When I was young, I loved to wear trendy clothes and shoes. These days, I prefer comfort to style, and exchanged my heels for flip-flops, sandals and tennis shoes—with the occasional pair of boots thrown in.
I seldom wear makeup anymore—not that I ever wore much to begin with. Since I carry a little more “bulk” than I used to, my face isn’t filled with wrinkles. There have to be some advantages, right? I figure as long as I liberally apply moisturizer, I’m ahead of the game.
The preacher’s mention of getting older got me to thinking about my parents and in-laws.
When my folks first retired, Mom spent hours in a bathing suit, tanning by the pool. She and Dad played shuffleboard, delivered meals on wheels, and enjoyed the casual Florida lifestyle. About four or five years before Mom died, she quit wearing shorts and pants (for the most part). She loved her skirts and dresses, and wore a glass bead necklace most days. Mom did her best to look stylish, despite having to wear orthopedic shoes, and wearing some of the ugliest sweaters I’d ever seen. They made her happy and feel good about herself, and that was all that mattered.
My mother-in-law, on the other hand, seldom wore dresses or skirts. She would dress for church in slacks (an occasional skirt), a blouse or knit top, and a jacket—always a jacket. When not dressed for church, she wore lightweight slacks and a plaid short-sleeved blouse. I know for a fact she wore several of the blouses for a good ten years or so. Her shoe selection was a bit more stylish than my mother’s, but not by much. Mary Ann wore flats or sandals when she dressed up, otherwise it was white or tan tennis shoes—in one particular style. I can still see the glue marks around the rubber lips, as she tried to get as much wear as possible.
My mother allowed her hair to go gray, while my mother-in-law refused to have a single gray strand show. I followed my mother’s example, while my daughter will follow her other grandmother’s lead.
I appreciate style and those who always look like a million bucks. I also appreciate those of us who like to look nice, but aren’t concerned whether or not our clothes are the latest fashion trend. I wouldn’t be caught out in public in my pajamas, but have no problem wearing them all day in the privacy of my home. Gives me a good excuse not to answer the door.
In truth, this post is less about fashion and more about originality. We’re all created in God’s image, yet no two are alike. Our clothes don’t define us, our hearts do. Think about that the next time you’re ready to judge a person by what’s on the outside. Maybe you could take a minute to find out what’s on the inside.