To begin with, I introduce you to her. Her name is Elizabeth, she works as chief accountant in the bank. Height - 170 cm, dark skin, long brown hair and a very slender figure.
The story began more than ten years ago. She was then forty with a tail. Difficult age for a woman. Especially if you consider that she is lonely.
In the street the spring, all slowly begin to take off from themselves a winter melancholy and clothes. My mother loves jeans and tight T-shirts. In the bank, of course you will not come, but all of her business suits are trousers and various blousons, usually open. Spring is like nothing.
And then one day we went shopping with her, to update the wardrobe. Bought a bunch of things, but most importantly - from what her eyes shone - this blouse of chocolate color. The natural silk flowed on the body, tightly there? where necessary, opened his shoulders and his back. Mamula spent the whole evening spinning in front of the mirror, picking up her trousers. Clearly she decided next morning to go to a new thing to work.
Mam's deputy was Larissa, the woman was an ulcer. It is sharp on the tongue, especially if it's insulting to say. I envied my mother terribly. Why? Well, firstly, my mother was more successful, slimmer, younger, and did not hesitate to wear open things. And, secondly, my mother did not have an alcoholic husband, and a lot of unnecessary problems that Larisa had.
In the evening, there was a call from my mother. She was not that depressed, a bit out of sorts. We decided to meet in an Italian restaurant. Mom came in a shabby jeans and a white T-shirt "in a gauze."
"Where's the blouson?" You were so glad to see him? I asked.
- At home, waiting in the wings! Somehow I feel uneasy.
Our constant waiter Ilya brought the order, made a gorgeous compliment and left us chatting on.
"You know, little daughter." I came to work today, all so happy, and Lariska to me: "Why are you dressed up? At our age, this is not the case. " All day long it's for nothing.
I laughed so that all visitors to the restaurant turned their attention to us.
We then chatted with my mother for more than an hour and laughed. And she did not take off the blouson until its last moment, both to work and to the exit. Always spectacular and happy.
Do you want to know what we were talking about then?
I'm telling you. The words of the harmful Lariska did not offend us, but they were remembered for a long time. I myself very soon enter into a difficult age of women. But we know for sure the truth. A woman does not have age. Not thirty-five or fifty. If you are a real woman, then you will not admit age to yourself. If a woman herself recognizes her age, then believe me, everyone around him will also recognize him. And then the time is not far off when you will hear a nasty one in your direction: "Alas, but in our time this is not ... so do not act ..."
Disgusting. Suppress on the root even the desire to say so in your direction.
To a difficult age did not overtake you, did not sit on your neck, perform simple rules. Look young, but do not be young. Do not let yourself become dull.
Remember! The woman is so many years old, what she looks like, and not so much as on her birthday cake. Try to look to everyone for envy, and not just the same age, but also those who are much younger than you. It's not difficult, the main thing is to want.
Do not be like those women who decided that after the age of forty, life stopped.
My mom is over fifty. Her colleague Lariska successfully retired. And my mother holds the stamp, moves up the career ladder. Turns heads to men, evokes young employees. Attends fitness club. She buys new jeans and T-shirts to keep her shoulders and back naked. After all, she's a WOMAN, she does not have age, she still has a lot to do, a lot to be done, many men turn into a head.