Going out in my sweatpants…

sweat pants Aging isn’t all it was cracked up to be.  More to the point, it’s not half bad.

Let me elaborate.  Since I’ve retired and no longer have to meet a dress code, my wardrobe has become increasingly “casual.”

Up until about yesterday, I would agonize over whether I should change out of my sweatpants and put on make-up before going to the bank.  Nah, no one will notice, I told myself.

Of course, it was those times when I run into all my friends who are dressed to the nines.  I try without success to hide that big ole greasy spot on my sweatshirt.


Will anyone notice I’m going to the section of the library which offers books in large print? Who cares. (I can always say I’m checking out books for my elderly neighbor.)

Will anyone at the restaurant notice I’m eating my sushi with my fingers?  (I’ve tried to master chopsticks but seem to have two thumbs on my right hand.)

The answer to all these questions is a resounding “NO.”  People are too busy thinking about their own shortcomings to worry about mine.

I read a book yesterday by Curtis Sitterfeld, author of “American Wife” and he had some great advice for people who obsess over what others think of them.  “Focus on what you’re trying to accomplish – whether its running an errand or having a dinner party – instead of on what others are thinking of you,” he says.

I found that greatly liberating, so I’ve vowed to focus on my purpose – whether it’s rushing to Walmart to take advantage of the sale on pet food, or putting in a few minutes in my garden while everyone in town passes by to watch me weed my mums in my bathrobe.

I figure the only way this philosophy won’t work is if your sole purpose in life is to impress others.  (Think it’s okay if that intent is on the list, just way toward the bottom?)

3 thoughts on “Going out in my sweatpants…

  1. Why is it that everytime you put on makeup and dress nicely, you never see anyone . But the day you don’t make a decent appearance, you run into everyone you know?

  2. Emily,

    The answer to going to the bank, for me, is the drive-through. Since I usually end up going to the Post Office on the same trip, I always go into the building to mail anything with any pertinent information in it which is almost always, so have to at least bathe before I do that. If I don’t have to go in any where…just drive through…stand back when I roll down the window! Ha! Anyway, it’s nice not to have to get out of the car sometimes. Cuz

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