The title of this post was squealed by my sister amidst much laughter while playing a game of cards. When she won, with joyful righteousness, she waved her arms in the air to proclaim her victory. At the exact moment that her arms were waving their delight, she squealed, “don’t look at my arms, don’t look at my arms.” Of course, her husband and I laughed hysterically, as did she, but her angst at her jiggling arms being witnessed by others (who love her dearly, by the way) was something I completely understood and could relate to.
Who else but those of us in our “mid” and later years understand this angst? Who else will wear sleeves or a jacket on a blistering hot Summer’s day, just to avoid the dreaded underarm wrinkle or batwing in view? I can hardly bring myself to leave the house anymore without at least short sleeves or a lightweight kimono over by arms.
Even as I’m writing these words, I’m frustrated with myself over such a silly thing.
But be that as it may, I don’t see it changing much – not for yours truly anyway.
With Spring and the dreaded heat of Summer fast approaching, I’ve optimistically begun my search for cute, short-sleeved and even sleeveless tops (lightweight covers close by, of course).
No, my arms are not the firm, smooth-skinned beauties they once were, but they still hold my loved ones close, comfort my friends, reach high for a glorious yoga stretch, grow beautiful things in a garden . . . . and, well, you get the drift.
So I’ll gently cover them with pretty things, and get on with my life.
How do you feel about baring your arms? Any words of advice or encouragement from those of you more enlightened than I?
In the meantime, how about a bit of sleeved Spring inspiration?
Till next time,
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