Jodi Ingstad, “chief joyologist,” wearing her fun little romper.
The other day I showed up to work wearing a little romper.
Now before anyone faints into their oatmeal, let me explain.
At our care center we had a group of Scandinavian singers coming in to share their music with the residents. When you are the Chief Joyologist—it is practically your civic duty to lean into a theme. Some people decorate a room. I decorate myself.
So I opened my closet, looked around, and spotted a little blue, velvet romper that felt, at least in my imagination, somewhat Scandinavian. Was it historically accurate? Probably not. But it had a certain cheerful, Nordic-adjacent spirit about it, and that was good enough for me.
When I walked into the building, one person took one look at me and said, “Well I’ll be. You look just like the Swiss Miss instant cocoa girl.”
Not the look I was going for-but he wasn’t wrong!
Now here’s the interesting part. I am just months away from turning sixty years old. Somewhere along the way there seems to be an unwritten rule that once a woman reaches a certain age she is supposed to quietly transition into what I call “the beige years.” Sensible slacks. Practical shoes. Neutral tops. A life lived somewhere between oatmeal and khaki.
But I have a small problem with that plan.
I have never been a trend follower. I have always been an authentic dresser. I dress according to the mood of the day, the theme of the moment, or sometimes simply because something in my closet looks like it might make somebody smile.
And in a nursing home, smiles are serious business.
The residents notice these things. They see the colors. They see the effort. They see the willingness to show up in life with a little personality still intact. And believe me, the people who have lived the longest understand something the rest of the world often forgets.
They get that life moves quickly.
One minute you are a young woman trying to figure out who you are. The next minute you are nearly sixty, standing in a hallway wearing a romper while a group of Scandinavian singers warms up down the corridor.
And if you are lucky, someone compares you to the Swiss Miss cocoa girl and not a goat herder from some goat herding place on the globe.
The truth is this- authenticity has no expiration date. Joy does not belong only to the young. Self-expression is not something we are meant to slowly fold up and place in a drawer once the candles on the birthday cake start adding up.
In fact, I suspect the opposite may be true.
The older we get, the freer we should feel to finally be exactly who we are.
So if you happen to see a nearly sixty-year-old woman wandering around a care center dressed like a slightly confused Scandinavian cocoa mascot, just know this—
I am not having a midlife crisis.
I am having an authentic life.
And I highly recommend it.
The Blonde on the Prairie is a lover of ND. She is an author and motivational speaker, owner of “Monkey Balls” food truck and “Chief Joyologist” to the elderly, the disabled and, now, also to children wherever she is needed.
