Mid-life Croaks: Screw the lingerie, Socks are sexy

Welcome to yet another a new series in the FrogBlog. I try to be innovative and unpredictable, and quite frankly, if I confine myself to a single niche it gets dull and boring after a while. In being true to my inner frog, I like to hop around from pond to pond and explore different topics. Join me on the latest lily pad and let’s see where this leads us!

Mid-life and menopause are bitches that have a really nasty bite to them. Not only do they turn your body inside out, they play havoc with your mind as well, questioning everything you ever knew, starting with your upbringing and the values instilled in you by all the venerable ancestors.

For decades, (centuries, perhaps) men and women around the world have been oppressed by the beauty standards set by the fashion, beauty and shoe industry, making everyone feel completely inadequate if they did not comply with the standards. You were (and continue to be) judged by the brand of jeans you wore, the shoes (leather or canvas), the type of school or office bag you carry, the car you drive, the jewellery you wear. Among authors you are judged by the number of books published, the exposure received, the reviews published and number of books sold, regardless of quality.

In my youth, which I choose to define as 35 and, less was more – and this referred to maintaining a low weigh, small waist, no pimples, wearing skimpy panties and lacy bras that provided absolutely no support. Parenthood changed all that, and suddenly comfortable clothes to run around in became top priority, never mind the glamour and forget the make-up on most days. Having a daughter, however, makes all the difference in the parenting journey because at some point you get dragged back into the bizarre world of make-up, hairstyles, fashion trends, accessories, and diets. Oh good heavens, not to forget being forced to keep up with the technology trends as well, and all the lingo. And I specifically say parenthood because this is not a field exclusive to women. I have met so many fathers just as involved or going stir-crazy with the aforementioned, and it’s no easier with the boys either.

Life’s many unexpected twists and turns lead us down strange and wondrous paths, and suddenly I find myself re-defining the less is more phrase that haunted me for so long. Well into my middle ages now, I consider having more plants than furniture the ideal ratio. I learned that I don’t need to eat three meals a day, two will do and that only if I am hungry. TV and parties? What’s that? Shoes and bags have a functional role in my life these days, and need to accommodate my needs, aches and pains on a daily basis, so stilettos and dainty clutch bags can go take a hike as far as I am concerned. Most importantly, good friends and bras are on the same priority level – supportive, behind the scenes, strong, understanding of my vulnerability, and no frills.

Then there is the issue of socks. How many years did I have to put up with the notion that socks are not sexy? A lacy body or see-through lingerie is the way to go. Hell no! My body, my cold feet so I will damn well do as I please. Sleeping with just socks on, now there’s something I can recommend, or with a hot water bottle at the food of the bed to warm up the spot where your frozen feet go. If I’m lucky one of my cats will do the job for me already! My point is, sexiness is in the mind, with the words you conjure and mental images you design. If properly done, a pair of wooly socks and powerful words will do a far better job that exposed nipples on a photograph. Less is more folks, and we have to get over this lingerie stereotype.

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