Old is the New Pretty by Julie Christen

 

I've decided. I'm going to start the latest trend. Just like in the fashion world, where "Silver is the new gold," or "Leggings are the new jeans," and "Gray is the new black," I hereby declare ...  

"Old is the new pretty!"

It really is just a mindset, isn't it? After every new trip around the sun, my friends tell me, "Age is just a number." I smile and nod in my typical, agreeable fashion. It's how you feel that matters, right?

Well, some days, I feel old. And some days, I look old.

I try my darndest to combat it, what with expensive wrinkle creams that promise to "take years off," cure-what-ails-you morning drink mixes that will make me "feel twenty years younger," a yoga mat laced with good intentions of helping me touch my toes again, and a LOT of BioFreeze Roll-on gel. I watch celebrities age with grace and beauty because they do "this ONE thing."

I say enough already. 

When I look at my favorite antiques, I think their rust and scratches and dents and dings are part of what makes them special. The tarnish on my grandma's silver is just a coating of nostalgia that revives visions of holidays past. Those rustic, run-down buildings in the middle of abandoned farmland look like amazing stories yet to be told. 

When I pull on a pair of old, out-of-style jeans and they curve loosely around my rear and bear memories of caught fences, party stains, or glitter craft remnants, why would I ever say goodbye? 

When I run my hand along the sway back of an old horse, the gray muzzle of a senior dog, or the mottled fur of an aging cat, all I see are the sure-sign markings of beloved, faithful friends who have gifted endless smiles, wisdom, and comfort. 

That's pretty.

So when I feel aches and pains, I will celebrate the hard work I'm still capable of doing that makes them so. When I look at my reflection, where some would see blemishes, I will choose to see beauty marks. When I draw a comb through gray hair and see crinkles at the corners of my eyes, where some would see flaws, I will choose to see high fashion. When I hear creaks in my bones and pops at my joints, I will choose to hear the rhythm of time and the wisdom that comes with it.

So say it with me, and repeat it often. 

"Old is the new pretty!"

And we will consider ourselves in good company.

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