The wisdom of ages

In spite of my best intentions, I’ve crossed into middle age. I still wear chucks, jeans and retro band t-shirts. There’s a good indicator of my age there. I love dressing in vintage. Though that simply means trawling through my wardrobe. So it goes.

My generation, the awesome and too cool for school Gen X. We’ve somehow turned everything we loved into fashion and commodity. We grew up in the utterly unfashionable ’80’s. How did we become cool after so many years of trying to be just that? Wonders will never cease.

I remember dancing in my ultra cool Aunty Judy’s loungeroom, in front of a record player that really needed its own room. It played LP after LP on it’s magical rotation system. For the last twenty years or more, a record player of any type, let alone that monstrosity, would have been junk. Now it’s a collectors item. This is the way of our world now.

I fight my battles here, holding on to the past, the carefree memories of a time long gone. But almost coming ’round again.

Soon enough I’ll be in fashion. For once. I’ll enjoy it this time. I promise myself.

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