Middle-aged people get ragged on for our clothes, and, yes, it’s funny, but also: What can you do? If you try to wear youthful outfits, you look like a fucking asshole, and if you wear what you actually want to wear (e.g., the matching pastel pink sweatshirt and -pants with iron-on kitten decals I saw somebody’s grandmother rocking during the Olive Garden lunch rush last week), your friends will put you in a home.
