Tales from the Wrong Side of Vintage

I'd like to introduce you to my most favorite fashionista in the world. Yes, I said it, the world. She's someone who actually gets me interested in fashion, although I am pretty sure she's got more style in her pinky finger than many a person I've ever known, she never makes me feel like I should glam it up more - she just makes me WANT to!

So, I introduce you to Elisa, of Globetrotting in Heels!

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I think I'm getting old.

A couple of months ago I read that now that it's 20 years since the 1990s, original 90s fashion is officially vintage. I was a teen in the 90s! I guess that makes me vintage, too. Fabulous. If only I was a bottle of wine.

Yes, I am getting old. 'cause isn't it typical old people criticizing current music and fashion? And that mixture of smugness and embarrassment I feel, when most of the outfits on the prominent fashion blogs frankly seem insane to me - that too sounds remarkably like it belongs in the range of emotions characteristic of an old fart.

Exhibit A.

Young: OMG! Love them! Want them! Wear them all the time!
Old: Huh. It's like Lady Gaga and the Wicked Witch of the West had a very ugly baby. (But just in case they are jealous, there's one for Glinda and Dorothy, as well.)

Exhibit B.

Young: OMG! Love them! Rhianna has a pair just like them!
I think they totally make me look like a rockstar!
Old: Sweetie, I'm sorry to break this to you, but they make you look more like a dominatrix.

Exhibit C.

Young: OMG! Love it! Balmain is a genius.
Old: holy s**t. Balmain has been taken over by mutant moths.

Well, that seals it. And what's tragic, I think I'll really suck as an old person. For one, I LOVE high heels, and absolutely despise anything remotely resembling orthopedic shoes, or even sensible shoes. F**k that -- I'm going to wear shoes, they're going to be fabulous, otherwise I might as well go barefoot.

That's another thing. I swear quite a bit. And that's just inappropriate. No one wants to see a sweet old lady swear like a sailor.

Also, I love dancing, which is especially bad when you pair it with my love of high heels -- can you say broken hip?

Oh, and I can't knit -- I am absolutely hopeless at anything handmade. Which means I suck at crafts, too -- oh my God, what will I ever do with my grandkids?

I guess I'll have to resort to teaching them to walk in high heels - unless they are boys, in which case I'll teach them to swear.

Hey - anyone interested in a grandma in training?

Elisa is Italian, which gives her a good excuse to be bossy, loud and obnoxious. She is not old enough to be a grandma but if you are interested in swearing lessons or learning to walk in high heels she might be able to accomodate you, as long as you are willing to travel to Zurich, Switzerland, where she currently lives with her family, on account of a lot of them being Swiss. She blogs at Globetrotting in Heels.

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