Old Man Pants

Let me say right off the bat that I love this outfit:

  Top: Target
Shorts: vintage*

Belt: Target

Shoes: Nine West

It is not only perfectly summery, but it tackles not one but two things I am scared of, sartorially. Namely: 

1. Pattern mixing (you can't tell very well from these pictures, but the shorts have a super thin blue and white pinstripe) and

2. Looking like I'm next in line at the shuffleboard court and should be adjusting my dentures while contemplating either prune juice or a nap.

And I suppose the two are related: the attempt to avoid looking geriatric can be foiled when one mixes two patterns. The trick, or so I am told, is to nominate one "supporting pattern" and one "leading pattern." Then, you get two attractive yet bland actors to banter awkwardly for a moment before presenting them to you -- wait, I think I'm getting confused. Basically, I picked a stronger pattern for my shirt and a subtle pattern for my shorts, broke up the two patterns with a contrasting color in the belt and -- voila! -- I have (hopefully) successfully avoided looking as though my name should be Ethel. (Not that there's anything wrong with that name, per se. And, since everything old is new again, I expect we should be seeing celebrities naming their children things like Floyd and Gertrude any day now.)

However, there is still the matter of these shorts. I, for one, think they are Grandma-fabulous and love the fact that the zipper may actually be six miles long. Unfortunately, once, when I was wearing them at my fancypants East Coast liberal arts college, my friend asked me why I was "wearing the pants of a grandpa." Touché, friend. Touché. 

So tell me: do you agree that they are Active Seniors Community Chic? Or are you with my friend in thinking that I should try for a senior discount at the movies when wearing them?

Still trying to perfect taking my own pictures

* Okay, technically they are hand-me-downs from my Mom, and I'm sure she would strongly object to me deeming them "vintage." But I would totally lose my hipster cred if I admitted that, right? So: sorry, Mom! At least I didn't call them "antique."