Thursday, June 07, 2007

Again, a sign of aging

I'm not talking about the strands of gray streaking my pony tail; the scarier signs are the mental ones. I used to wear a lot of black. It was partially occupational (working backstage a lot), partially a matter of laundry (at one time, I was bad at separating colors), and partially a matter of style (I think I look good in black). I still have a lot of black clothing, but I rarely dive into the all-black look anymore.

Given that, I don't remember how my brain used to translate seeing someone in all black. Possibly I thought it was fashionable, or the sign of someone too lazy to coordinate colors; I don't remember, really. But I realized on the ride to work today that I've shifted paradigms on black clothing. Whatever the old translation for all-black clothing used to be, the new translation is "all-black clothing = restaurant worker". I think this is yet another sign I'm getting older. Or, hey -- maturing! That sounds better! I'm getting more mature!

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