I grow old, I grow old...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Quoting Eliot here is highly appropriate : When I returned from the States in 2007, I repeatedly said that one of the best things that had happened to me was Old Navy. I wore the trousers I bought there for years, and two of my still favourite shirts I also got on the West 34th street, in Old Navy. With Kiki, therefore, we have been calling this, and the February scholarship trip both as Old Navy Grants, the only aim of which is not scholarly or personal progress, but to rewamp my wardrobe. 

Ever since I'm here, I have been holding back, but finally last week with Anna we went shopping... and there reality slapped me in the face. I looked at the clothes, and even tried some on, but wearing them I felt like a head-transplant (copyright Billy Connolly), as if my head had been operated on top of a body of a 20-year-old. I thought that the cuts were botched, the material was way too flimsy and all-in-all, I felt like a fish out of water. 

Of course I bought a highly age inappropriate red Snoopy t-shirt and a black shirt, just to have something in my backpack from Old Navy, but that was it, I think... My romance with Old Navy is over...

At the age of 37, have I suddenly turned into a woman in her 30s??? How has this happened, I wonder?

:)