The other day I got a catalog in the mail with an attractive woman on the front. An older woman. As I flipped mindlessly through it I thought it I saw women with lines around their eyes, some with full salt and pepper hair, some with a few streaks of gray. The clothes in the catalog were nice, seemed to fit well and offered some allowances for women who may not be as firm as they once were: longer, yet form fitting shirts, flowing pants, accessories in the right places. I tossed the catalog aside thinking it must have landed in my mailbox not by mistake necessarily, but by some fluke. I chalked it up to mailing lists being sold and swapped and didn’t think another thing about it.
Until Eliza’s second birthday party. [Read More]