Every year I get a little bit older, and our incoming freshman get a little bit younger. This is my fifteenth straight September spent on a college campus, which means I’ve seen fifteen incoming freshmen classes. They, now, finally make me feel old. I’m 32.
Of course, it doesn’t help that I just saw a student reading a magazine in our lobby and thought, “that is a seriously cute top. I wonder where she got it?” and then realized that she was wearing said cute top (an embroidered linen tunic-y thing) with leggings.
I remember the last time women wore leggings regularly. I was 12ish.
They didn’t need to come back.
This makes me, I think, officially old, as I now remember “the first time” of a fashion trend that’s resurfaced. I am also officially young, as I am, with one exception, the youngest member of our 20+ person staff, and the youngest librarian by a decent stretch.
Age, it seems, is relative. But those kids are really young.