Never Look in a Three-Way Mirror. Like, EVER.

YEAH BABY! Photo courtesy of my Littlest Dude. And this IS what aging is doing to me. Imagine what the back of me looks like. I did. Hence the happy facial expression.

Do you remember that one time when you went to the mall because you had a few minutes, which was a miracle, but your errands took you down to that neighborhood and you figured why not, since it's been like a bajillion years since you went there? Except for a few days ago when you went to look for a pair of blingy shoes to wear with the mulberry-colored dress that you're going to be wearing to perform in Seattle and mulberry is an odd color to match (not matchy-match, but complimentary-match)? Remember that?

And remember how you walked through a particularly upscale-ish store that you rarely buy anything but makeup from because you can't afford it, except when they have their half-yearly sale, and then only the 75%-off rack? And how you were dreaming of wearing some of the fancy-schmancy dresses, and you've been working out and have actually grown a little bit of a butt so the schmancy dresses might even look good, and you got distracted by this eggplant-colored one with some really cool gunmetal beads sewn around the neck to look like an awesome Egyptian necklace (because Pharaoh loved him his gunmetal)?

Then do you remember how you suddenly got obssessed with looking good in this gunmetal/eggplant dress so even though the store was closing in like 3 and a half minutes you grabbed the dress, ran back to the dressing rooms–passing the lady at the register who was waving you down and pointing to the clock but you ignored her so she just let you in–and commenced the general swapping of old clothes for new?

Remember that time when you were doing that and you got half-way through the swap and suddenly realized that there was a 3-way mirror in the dressing room, and it happened to be positioned in such a manner as to give you a perfectly framed full-scale view of your derriere? REMEMBER THAT? BECAUSE I DO.

In fact, I shall never forget it. The image has been BLAZONED on my brain.

Let me just pause and remind you that as you age, your thought-processes, memories, and vision of yourself don't. As far as you are concerned you are still the nubile twenty-something year-old you were when you got married. You feel that way every day, with the exception of a few creaks and cracks. It is literally a shock each morning as you wake up and look in the mirror and find Joan Rivers staring back. But you still convince yourself, because you are going to the gym every day, that you don't look that different than you used to.

Then you get trapped in a dressing room with a 3-way mirror, and your world is forever changed. 

I'm used to a 3/4 view, and my posterior doesn't look too hangy-downy from that angle. I only have one mirror in my bathroom, so that 3/4 view is all I ever get. The fully-faced back view I got this time nearly made me jump out of my skin. I thought someone else must have come into my dressing room when I wasn't looking. BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY THAT SAGGY GRANNY-BUTT COULD BE MINE. NOT TO MENTION THE ROAD MAPPED VEINY THINGS THAT EXTENDED DOWNWARD FROM IT AND SEEMED TO BE ATTEMPTING TO SUPPORT THE REST OF ME.

Oh. My. Geriatric. Heart. Where are my friends? I mean, I HAVE WORN A SWIM SUIT IN PUBLIC, PEOPLE!  Friends don't let friends granny-butt in front of other friends. (Yes, "granny-butt" can be a verb when necessary.) And I have some words to say to that guy who owns that one boutique and talked me into buying and wearing Jeggings, saying "Oh, honey! You can totally wear those! You have the legs for it!"

Come to think of it, he said nothing about me having the rear for it. In fact, he sold me several rear-covering shirts telling me it's all the rage to wear long and blousey over tight and skinny.

Oh.

Guess that should have been my red flag.

Sooo.

I suppose there's nothing to do but embrace my granny-butt and call it aging gracefully. *sigh* It's probably time to go out and buy a pair of orthopedic panties. I just won't tell anyone.

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About Janiel 432 Articles
I have managed to keep the same husband for nearly three decades, and the same four children for almost that long - although one or two of them say it has been much longer. I have been writing since I learned to hold a pencil, and trying to make people laugh even longer. I hope to do some good in the world before I go the way of it. And if not, I'd better at least get to visit Ireland.

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