The Middle-Aged Maven Haven

Lately, I’ve noticed that my personal demographic has changed...at least as far as clothes and shopping are concerned. Although I still like the clothes at The Gap, my middle-aged body can no longer wear them very well. My high-rise hips have a hard time squeezing into their low-rise jeans. I appreciate the colorful and eclectic look of the merchandise at Chico’s, but their wacky sizes are too complicated for my fading brain. Kohl’s is great and cheap, but unless you look like Daisy Fuentes, everything there is looking a tad too dowdy for me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Dowdy is OK. Dowdy is comfortable. Dowdy is often friendly on the pocketbook. But dowdy is most definitely not cool. And, call this my own personal mid-life crisis, but once in a while, I want to look a little bit cool.

There’s this store that gives me an opportunity to sometimes look cool. I’ve received their catalogs for years and I always find something bright, colorful and a little bit cool-looking. It’s called Coldwater Creek and a couple of years ago, one opened in my local mall. I was pretty excited to be able to see this coolness, up close and personal.

Well, here’s the deal: Coldwater Creek...or should I call it Coldwater Creak, is a really great store with outstanding service. But it is, to be perfectly honest, a middle-aged maven haven. It is shopped at by middle-aged to senior women. It is staffed by middle-aged to senior women. There are women oozing out of every pore of its retail existence. If there are men in Coldwater Creak, they look miserable. Children there would rather be doing homework. There is so much estrogen in Coldwater Creak, it probably gets crabby once a month!

But, for some reason, I like this store. I usually find what I need without breaking the bank. What I don’t like is that I feel like I’m being waited on by my mother. I know this because one of the sales clerks (who was easily pushing 70), was trying to sell me a top that only my mother would like. I was waiting for her to ask if I’d gotten enough rest the night before. Maybe it’s just me, but I want the sales clerks to look much cooler than me...or my mother. I also want them to be able to hear me without me shouting. If I want to shout, I’ll go and visit my parents.

And to add insult to injury, when you go in the changing rooms, they ask your name and put it on the door with a Post-It Note. I know it's so that they can glide by and inquire: "Everything going OK, Karen?" But part of me wonders if it's so that you can remember your own name when you go back in.

Look, I’m all for women going back into the workplace. I’m on the cusp of being an empty-nester myself. I’m just a tad uncomfortable to be hanging out in places where AARP cards are more prevalent than iPods. I wish that they’d mix it up a little bit and hire a few youngsters (without the ‘tude, please) so I didn’t feel like I just walked into the Shady Acres Gift Shop. I realize that I’ve matured past the point of shopping at American Eagle, but it would be nice if the folks at “The Creak” would be a little less obvious about it.