Eight, Again

I've been thinking about rompers, also known as a playsuit, jumpsuit and catsuit. I almost put, "the," before, "catsuit," but obviously we are not talking about the actual suit that Catwoman wore.

So, I've been thinking about this clothing item and the grown women who wear them.


It kind of bothers me. It doesn't matter if the silhouette is slinky and very adult, or that the crotch is dropped or the hems are gathered. It still looks wrong. Is there something about their Oshkosh B'Gosh years that they would like to recapture? When maneuvering out of a romper to take a piss, does a shot of youthful energy go through one's being? Does the feel of overalls on skin bring back memories of imaginary friends named Vivica and Doris?

I must admit, those years gone by were magical times. I've always wondered what it would feel like to have my mother put a bib around my neck again and force feed me liquid vitamins from a bottle. Plus, Vivica and I used to terrorize my neighborhood of stuffed animals. However, I am not putting a romper on.

And one other thing I'm not doing at my age? Putting my hair in pigtails, braided or otherwise. No. Just, no.