It was an accident. And it was actually from TJ Maxx.
I didn’t realize the tiny shorts that most likely weren’t created for someone in their 30s were a name brand, and a silly teen brand at that. (I don’t really know what Hollister is except that when a store popped up in my hometown’s mall, I distinctly remember someone comparing it to Abercrombie and Fitch. By which I assumed you needed an extremely strong tolerance to pungent cologne to enter.)
All I knew was that they were comfortable, and these days, that’s most definitely a prerequisite for clothing I purchase. It always has been, even in those days, but at least now I’m old enough to say that and have my peers agree.
When I folded the shorts to put them in my closet, that’s when I saw the Hollister tag.
For a split second, I considered returning them solely for that reason. What would it mean if I were to willingly wear clothes designed for a teenager as if I had no respect for the grown woman’s body I possess? What sort of message would it send the world?
In the next second, I shook my head and put the shorts into the closet. What would it mean if I were to willingly refuse to wear something just because I was worried it might make me seem like an old person trying to stay young?
I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, but I’d rather have fun exploring the first ones than deny myself a comfy piece of clothing just because it originally came from Hollister.