When I was in high school I subscribed to Self Magazine and Glamour Magazine. I was looking for that special piece of advice that would suddenly make me one of the popular girls.

I never found it, but I did find a lot of good advice. The articles weren’t just geared to teens. You could see a path forward into womanhood and all its many facets. There were articles about growing up and letting go of certain habits, ways of speaking, ways of dressing, make-up, or hairstyles that made you look immature. This was especially helpful when I graduated from college and began my search for the perfect career. Back then, looking too young was detrimental. Now, looking remotely middle aged can be a death knell. Daring to look younger than your age is only okay if it doesn’t look like you tried too hard.

If you are a woman over 40, your social feed will include:

·       Advertisements for fashions for mature women

·       Hairstyles for women over 40, 50, or 60

·       Jewelry for women over 40, 50, or 60

·       What colors mature women should wear or avoid

·       What not to wear after you turn 40, 50, or 60

·       What to wear after you turn 40, 50, or 60

·       When is it time to stop wearing shorts or jeans in public?

·       Make up for women over 40, 50, or 60  including what we should no longer do/use

·       How you text or message reveals your age

·       Is your email server making you look old?

·       Are your socks making you look older?

Seriously, the socks thing is real. According to the author, Gen Z’s want us to know that wearing low cut socks makes us look ancient. They want us to know they see us, and we look ridiculous. To prove a point the author showed us pictures of a Kardashian leaving the gym after a workout wearing crew socks, and an oldie, but a goody, of Princess Diana walking in sneakers and crew socks. I’m pretty sure when Princess Diana was wearing crew socks. I was wearing them, too. I still have crew socks in my sock drawer older than any Gen Z.

Full disclosure, I’ve seen articles about what length sock we should wear based on our height or outfit. That makes a lot more sense.

Did you know there are 16 types of socks based on length for women? If you don’t believe me go to www.sheecsocks.com and check it out. BTW, it’s a great website that explains every cut and how to wear them without judging you by your age or stature.

Most of these articles are clickbait trying to get clicks and make you run out and buy something in a desperate attempt to look younger. Still, the way they are written is often hurtful. For example, the socks article starts with the narrator talking about seeing Gen Zs pointing, staring, and snickering at them and learning the cause was their out of fashion low cut socks. Gen Zs have grown up with unrelenting gun violence, climate change, and attempted insurrections. Do we really believe this generation collectively has time to ridicule their elders for their choice of sock length? Do we really care about people of any generation cruel enough to laugh at us for something so ridiculous?

The tone of these articles can be divisive and shaming. Shame on you for spending your finite amount of income on gas, groceries, or charitable donations instead of keeping up with what’s in fashion. Shame on you for wearing your clothes until they wear out instead of throwing them in a landfill as soon as they aren’t in fashion. Shame on you for not keeping up with fashion, and finally shame on you for not knowing which fashion trends are appropriate for your age.

Why do I rarely see articles telling men what to wear based on their age? In all fairness, the sock thing could pertain to men. I know socks with sandals is a unisex debate, and black dress socks with tennis shoes and shorts are first world problems many men have been asked to solve.

I admit seeing women in their eighties with jet black hair, heavy black eyeliner and bright red lipstick wearing short shorts and a tank top can be unsettling, but seeing their male counterparts with jet black hair, tank tops, and jeans from the 70s, is equally jarring.

I’m ashamed to admit sometimes I wonder if they think they look good, and I think someone should give them an age-appropriate makeover or an intervention. Then I realize they aren’t hurting anyone as long as they aren’t hitting on someone young enough to be their child or grandchild.

One thing I’ve learned as I age is that sometimes the mirror lies, and I see a twenty-year-old staring back at me. On other days, the mirror sees every line, wrinkle, or flaw magnified. The camera lens and Facetime aren’t so easy to deceive, but so far I’m holding up pretty well.

My mind still sees that twenty-year-old when I think of who I am, and she’s there in my dreams. Maybe that’s a kindness we should allow everyone.