As I age I tend to wear less and less color. I don't like the "old lady" shirts with their yoke displays of flowers and birdhouses or declarations of how much my grand kids love me. ugh... If I could, I'd still wear brilliant purple peasant tops and jewel toned poetry shirts with flowers braided into my hair and the appropriately bright sandals to match!
I gave up the hair for Locks of Love. That's o.k., I like my short hair and I have cut it a number of times. But now I don't seem to want to wear daisies or roses in it anymore. These things all call too much attention to myself and my looks which have paled significantly as I have grown older. I still love jeans and jewel tones, I just don't wear them as brilliantly as before.
Except my underwear. My love of color hasn't stopped there! And now that I actually wear underwear all the time... (yeah, remember when we were young and didn't? - yeah right, admit it.) I like to wear them as bright and as varied as I can. So I buy popping purple, lime green, hot pink, vivid red, electric yellow and any other loud colors I can find, for my underwear selections. Somehow, it doesn't feel like I've lost the color in my life when I wear my vibrantly colored underwear. I don't care if they don't show, I know they are there!
And then along comes Mom. Oh yeah, you knew there had to be a catch right? uh huh. Mother taught us to sort our laundry and not to use bleach on our bright colors. When that all changed, I am not sure. I do know that when I see her headed to the laundry room with a bottle of bleach, that my underwear are about to undergo another change of color. Yup, all those wonderfully bright and vibrant colors are going to go down the drain right along with sweat marks, body odor and the drippings of my last meal.
Lime green has turned to pea green, hot pink is just a blush, vivid reds are smears and blotches of long gone color. Those lovely daisy yellow ones are almost white now.
I now just pretend that my underwear are those wonderfully brilliant colors that I so love. But I can't complain... after all, my mom IS doing my laundry! So maybe I'll just stick a flower in my super short hair after all!