A few years ago, Mr. Fixit and I were in the parking lot of a strip mall. One of the stores is a regional clothing chain that seems to draw older women. I think it’s because they actually have pants that reach your natural waist. They also have lots of bright colored fashion. I don’t shop there except to check out the shoes because most of the clothing is double knit. I realize that there are people who like double knit because it so easy to care for—wash, dry, put on hanger. I don’t really care for double knit. I’d rather iron a little or even go a little wrinkled if I’m in a rush.
I noticed something a little strange. Almost of the ladies going in the store had the same hairdo, most had fanny packs, their sandals were all metallic colors, wore more than several bangle bracelets on their wrists,and a large percentage of the ladies wore ankle bracelets.
There was a time when I was in seventh grade I wore ankle bracelets but not since then. I do have a sandals that that a little bronze color on them, and if I had some curl in my hair I guess I would have the hairdo. The fanny packs were just a bit too much for me. I told Mr. Fixit, “If you see me looking at fanny packs or if you think I am even thinking about fanny packs, go out and find a gun and put me out of my misery PDQ.” I don’t know why I had such a visceral reaction to fanny packs.
The other day as I preparing for my morning walk I saw that it was warm enough to go without a jacket or sweater. I grabbed my phone, keys, a handkerchief since it’s allergy season my nose is always runny, my little counter to keep track of the laps, and my mp3 player with my book queued up. I needed to get my sunglasses from the car and get a hat to keep the sun out of my eyes. (Bright sun causes a little discomfort for me. There is one lady in the neighborhood who seems really interested in my hats. I think she thinks I’m a little peculiar. She may be right.)
I then started to fill my pants pockets with my necessities. Horrors, no pockets in the pants I was wearing! Then this crazy thought struck me, “I need a fanny pack.” I was stunned. I was ready to join the legions of older women who don’t leave home without their fanny packs. No, no way! Mr. Fixit thinks it would be very handy, darn him.