Tuesday, March 1, 2016

In the Olden Days

It has been four years since I've blogged here, and in those years I've ceased to think of myself as a blogger. That word has managed to morph into its own legitimate occupation, which seems crazy to me, and I wonder if I had kept at it, consistently, would the Firmdale Properties be asking me to write fabulous blurbs and copy for them and offering to fly me to London to stay at all of their hotels?



The word itself still makes me laugh. Blogger. Because it rhymes with "logger" and I immediately imagine a log-rolling scenario with 20-something hipsters in wool slouch-hats tapping away at their i-Devices while their skinny-jean-clad legs flail and scramble back and forth in an attempt to keep them from falling into the water.


 (But picture them holding i-Pads and little laptops.)

I have officially reached the age where I don't "get" the kids these days. All the social media stuff and the acronyms and short attention-spans just make my eyes roll, and they've been rolling so hard for so long I think I need bifocals now.

My beloved fashion magazines now put Nickelodeon and Disney stars on the covers, and ask me to scan my phone or visit the website to read more about whatever article I'm trying to read. Magazine people: I read the magazines so I don't have to stare at the glowing computer screen. They're doing studies. It's not so good for you, all the time. And, just when I was thinking I was finally ready to graduate to More magazine? You know, the one for (old) women of style and substance? They folded. After the April 2016 issue, it will be no More.



Then there's the TV. NOT NETFLIX, JUST REGULAR OLD-TIMEY TELEVISION. I am issuing an official challenge the judges on "Project Runway" to praise a look without referring to it as "young and fresh". I dare you. There are other adjectives that don't exclude seven other decades of demographic. Nina Garcia is fifty years old, for the love of Lanvin. And I like that! I'm afraid the producers might try to replace her with some eleven year-old with an "on fleek" podcast. (And, for the record, "on fleek" sounds like Gretchen Wieners was finally successful in making one of her phrases happen.) Fashion is not the exclusive domain of the young.


Urf. I've gone all ranty now (GET OFF MY LAWN!). It's not that I think Millennials, and whatever they're calling the ones younger than that (Mini-llennials?), don't have anything important to contribute. I just really miss hearing from people older and wiser than me. I want to see some "60 over 60" lists, talking about awesome achievements that have been made after people hit middle age. I'm sure the stories are out there, somewhere, but finding them is like finding healthy food at a grocery store that isn't Trader Joe's or Whole Foods. You have to read the tiny print on all the labels for ingredients. And I often forget my bifocals.

You should call more often. Sincerely,
Grandma Gretta