Hot and loud

You know how sometimes you don't notice something until someone points it out? I experienced this recently, when my blogger friend Stephen Andrew commented on the hot, saturated colors I put into a flower arrangement I brought indoors a couple of weeks ago.

COLORS!

And today I was outside in the back yard in the one place I allow myself to plant all manner of ornamentals....my large raised planter in the "pretty" section of the yard. Again with the hot colors. What in the world is going on with me?

Most of my life I've been a pastels kind of girl, who would no more choose hot colors than fly to the moon. OK to slightly clarify that, I would TOTALLY fly to the moon if offered the chance, and hot colors did once have a place in my life, when I was about 7 years old or so and the Raging 1960s were going strong. I was all about COLORS, and even had a Stingray bike with a sparkly hot purple banana seat and tassles on the handlebars.

An exact replica of my bike...think it's in the Smithsonian by now?

I dressed in what I liked. And sometimes those fashion choices worked out OK.

Coordinating with the bike.

And sometimes they did not.

That is my mother in the rear. How did she allow me to leave the house dressed this way?

So through my teens until just recently, I really shied away from those super "loud" colors. But in thinking about it, they are the perfect colors for someone middle aged and older to totally rock. I mean, you might as well get noticed for something right? And let's face it, your face no longer commands awe (except when someone says, "awww, look at that old lady trying to lift that bag of fertilizer. Let's help her.")  Honestly. Our dewey loveliness fades and pastels are no friend to faded hair and skin. And while we're discussing it, you're not going to get any attention for your legs, either, except from 80 year-old men with a Viagra pill in their pocket and high hopes. Heels are too damn hard on your back and anything form fitting is a sign that you really need to go home and take an honest look in the mirror at what your form actually is in the present day, not 1983. Blousing, ruching, and all things billowing are your friends now.

Yet we still have options to make a statement with, if we wish. If you wear a hot pink collared shirt or lime green suit people will sit up and take notice of your bad-ass-ness. The world is your freakin' oyster once again. 

WOW! No further comment needed.

I don't think The Queen would have been caught dead in this color 20 or even 40 years ago, but at her age she probably figures why the f*ck not? I concur. And so what's been happening subconsciously is now exploding into my waking hours, and I find myself looking for bright yellows, pinks, oranges and greens to augment both my wardrobe and my life in general.

I may not be "hot" anymore (except for hot flashes of course), but perhaps that's the perfect time to let hot colors make the statement that I've still got some color -- some "hot" -- in me.