It is 45-degree centigrade and I am driving to work when I pass a young man who has a fringe covering the better part of his forehead and his left eye. He does not see me, or my big black car because of that hair and just when I am thinking of telling him off, he stylishly flicks his head and moves away. I forget about his lack of spatial awareness and without thinking reach for the clip to let my hair loose. The metrosexual man has just made me painfully aware of giving up the style in favor of comfort. When I recount the incident, my millennial daughter is more concerned by my perceived affront to my femininity than the near-missed accident. She is horrified that I am conforming to ideas of toxic femininity!
Ah well, it seems that I have reached the age where I don’t react correctly to anything. If I comment on the lack of someone’s ability to wear clothes appropriate to their bodies or age, I am body shaming. Whatever happened to old fashioned gossip? It seems strange that a generation that suffers acutely from JOMO has issues when I am just expressing myself, to myself or a confidant. When the restrictions on how I express myself become too much to take, I tend to get annoyed and then I am reproved for being salty.
Thankfully, one of my role models is the protagonist of Jenny Joseph’s poem, Warning. She does not care for being correct. Don’t think I do either!
(Read https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/warning/)
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