By Didi Alchemy
In many ways I am extremely mature. No, wait that is a total fabrication. All right let me rephrase this: At times I do mature things like, you know, paying bills, laundry, ruminating about life. These are all completely expected and accepted activities for grown ups. Some people even procreate and Goddamn it I am happy for them. I am, truly, with every beat of my ice-cold heart. Many believe that this is the harbinger of actual adulthood. Maybe it is, but you know the kid thing – not for everyone. Hey, just because one can does not mean one should. I can certainly say this is the case for me. I have been like this since I was fifteen years old. Here is where you expect me to back peddle right? You imagine that this is the part where I explain that kids are so cute and all and how I love to nuzzle up and smell that newborn baby smell, but I just do not want my own- right? No. Nope. It’s just not true. Don’t hand me that baby – I don’t want it! It’s yours! I mean that’s just what I need – to drop the kid! Jesus H. Christ already. How about I just wave at said baby from afar and smile? OK, cool thanks. Poop, dirty diapers? Hell no. That is nasty. Here is the thing though: I am all for you all having babies! I mean, as many as you want! Go crazy with all that. Just know that while you are all sleep deprived and have baby vomit on your dress; I will be taking my afternoon nap. Personally, I’m not seeing the appeal here. Also, I remember being a kid, not only was I a total pain in the ass, but also I hated being a child. Ask my mother. She will tell you (in her Jerseyesque way) how I worried about things like: cancer and war, yet was a relentless brat, errant and selfish child. Well, I am sure she would say some nice things too being my mother after all.
Let us fast forward to present day. I am a grown woman in her forties with a penchant for Hello Kitty, wants to dress like a nineteen year old, drinks copious amounts of coffee, shops too much and routinely eschews household chores.
I am similar to a post adolescent, but with some sage advice, business sense and a lot of interesting life experiences. Now I am serious about HK. I still dig her. I don’t care if you disapprove. However, I have to stop myself sometimes. I already have a pair of Hello Kitty footed PJ’s do I need another pair of pajama pants? No, no, I do not. I have random HK notebooks, tins that once carried candies, pencils and pens. I once had a Hello Kitty vibrator. NO! I would never defame her like that- it was simply for show. So, I have to keep HK on the down low. I think I am maxed out on the ole’ gal. Hello Kitty does not care though. She welcomes me with open paws whenever I am ready to make another purchase. She really can’t say it (as she has no mouth) but, Hello Kitty welcomes one and all!
Age appropriateness. I hate those words. I know I have to actually think thoughts like this: Is this outfit age appropriate? I bought a Wu -Tang Clan t-shirt the other day. Obviously, I thought this was suitable attire. I mean it’s a t-shirt – let’s not dissect it shall we? Although, I find myself looking at the clothing on the site Nasty Gal and yelping in delight at the designs while simultaneously groaning with displeasure. Trust me, if I thought I could pull it off I would go for it. Like I said: Just because you can does not mean you should. Therefore, I have a proclivity for funky shoes. John Fluevog is my idol with Jeffrey Campbell coming in a close second. However, this dumb “age appropriate” crap comes into play there as well. There are simply certain styles that just look wrong. Look, unlike other women I just don’t embrace this ageing thing. Yeah, I know, there is nothing I can do about it, but I am not going to stop colouring my hair and let it go gray. I have heard people proclaim: Oh, but it would look great on you! Really? No. You let your flippin hair grow out gray you old shrew! Ay Dios Mio! What is wrong with people? I am almost certain these are the same women that think that pajama apparel worn in public is fashionably chic. Do not even get me started with that whole debacle.
So, if we should ever meet there are only a few things about me you really need to know. I am young at heart. (Hey, that’s what folks say!) I am masquerading as a grown up. I am glad you like your kids. I am gracefully growing old in the way any twenty-five year old would. I love fashion, but draw the line at midriff baring tops and midi rings. I think that is all for now. It’s time for my afternoon nap.