This Growing Up Thing
A few weeks ago Julia, Nicole, Steph and I went downtown on a rainy Saturday night. Queen West was still packed and as I waited under a narrow overhang with a Michael Kors duster bag over my head because I didn't bring an umbrella, I looked at the hipsters, gorgeous early 20 somethings and happy couples hurrying past me. There I was. Twenty eight years old in a teensy purple strapless dress from French Connection with perfectly coiffed hair - it was the first time I had blow dried my hair since March - waiting for my 905 ladies to arrive and park, standing in the rain. Traffic was horrendous so I was waiting a while. I started to wonder, "Am I getting too old for this?" The thought quickly darted from my mind as my berry lit up. Nic messaged me to cross the street and hop in Steph's car as we were heading elsewhere.
Shortly after, and huddled under the lone umbrella we found in Steph's Civic, we navigated around puddles, cabs and a line up none of us was prepared to wait in. Now, our second choice venue that night was not ideal but the product of opportunity. Knowing some people in the industry helps when you want to avoid paying cover or waiting in lines, but it doesn't always mean you'll spend the night in your favourite spot.
The crowd in this club and yes, I say club because our options for supper clubs, lounges and bars were widdled down significantly, was younger. The kind of younger that still thinks wearing the least amount of clothing possible is sexy. The kind of younger that takes their shoes off because they haven't been wearing heels long enough to develop the pain tolerance. The kind of younger that makes out in public, like big time making out. The kind of younger that drinks Sex on the Beach because they want to say "sex" to a bartender and wink at the same time. The kind of younger that I was...ten years ago.
I shouldn't judge. We've all been there and honestly, Ryan and I still act like lovesick teens in public, so I can't bash anyone who's been hit by Cupid's arrow while the bass is pumping and the booze is flowing. With four vodka sodas (less calories than the sweeter drinks of earlier years) and the intent to dance we thought it would be kind of comical to hit the dance floor.
The smell of sweat, the sight of too much lip gloss and the sound of Top 40 enveloped us. We tried to find a space big enough to shake some hiney and then it really dawned on me...we are those people I used to make fun of. We're now the people who look older and more put together and like they're too cool for everyone else. When did this happen?! I looked at Julia and she started to laugh. "What's wrong?" she asked me. I took a deep breath and said, "Are we too old for this now? You do realize that when my mother was our age, I was six years old, right?" The look of amusement and horror washed over Julia's face. We both knew it. It's starting to happen and we can't stop it. We. Are. Getting. Older.