The Music Festival
Last weekend I spent the day at a music festival. It was mostly made up of alt rock bands but all have had pop hits. It's not out of the realm of possibility that I would know or like these songs. I say this because when we arrived (my husband and I, along with another couple our age), we were a good 15 years older than almost everyone else walking around. There were also signs and announcements for the location of the "parent pick-up spot" for after the show. A ton of these kids couldn't even drive! We suddenly felt very, very old.
It didn't help matters that the fashion statement of the night - and let me be clear, no less than 98% of the girls wore this - was the high-waisted denim cut-off short short. Some were so short that they more accurately could have been classified as denim thongs. If it wouldn't have been too weird, I would have asked one of them if they actually left their house like that, or if they changed into that later on. I know the answer. Who would let their kid walk around like that? From experience, I know that my father would have shot me rather than let me walk out of the door with my bare butt able to touch surfaces.
I know, I sound like an old lady. Honestly, I grew up in Florida during the days of the Daisy Dukes comeback of the 90's. I wore short shorts. I wore short skirts. I did not, however, show my birth canal to the world, or even camel toe. A common outfit at this festival included the butt baring shorts (on all sizes of girls), a sports bra made only of stretchy lace and a flowered wreath around their heads. This was an interesting touch. I think they thought they were at Woodstock. All the flowers were fake and came straight out of a craft store. I didn't get the memo.
Once we entered the covered pavilion, where we had purchased actual seats, rather than the general admission on the lawn, we discovered the other people of our age. Plenty of them, in fact. We felt much better. They all had normal clothes on and no fake flowers in their hair. We were not alone anymore in a sea of teenagers. I was starting to get weirdly unable to breathe when we had been unable to move amidst all that cheap fabric and the overwhelming smell of self tanner.
Cocktail in hand (luckily the lines weren't so long as nobody was old enough to drink), we thoroughly enjoyed the show. I realized I may worry about aging and my health, but I am completely happy where I am in life. I don't want, or need, booty shorts in my daily routine.