Today, the weather gods unleashed a truly miserable day on the East Coast. Meteorologists had us bracing for impact last night, but many of us still woke up totally unprepared for the chaos outside. The streets are a treacherous mix of hidden puddles, and everyone seems to be engaged in a clumsy dance of umbrella duels. Buses, clearly in a bad mood, are splashing unsuspecting pedestrians with slushy water, showcasing their own winter rage. We’re all just sleet-drenched winter warriors at this point.
I thought I was ready for the New York City morning. I shoved my giant feet into the warmest, most insulated waterproof boots I could find, layered up like a burrito, and complained to my boyfriend for a solid 27.5 minutes before storming out. By the time I hit Sixth Avenue, I felt like I could take on anything. (Bring it on, NYC!)
And then there you were, gliding across Sixth Avenue like a graceful urban gazelle. In those impossibly thin stilettos, at least four inches high, you were clearly facing your own challenges crossing the street. But you wore a dazzling smile and displayed an agility that left me in awe. Dressed in your sleek all-black outfit, you seemed like you were born to navigate this winter wonderland—or nightmare, depending on your perspective. Your elegance in such adverse conditions made me seriously question my entire approach to life.
To top it off, you were definitely older than I am. Your silver hair flowed behind you, a vision of how I aspire to age. You looked like a walking advertisement for embracing life in New York as one grows older. I could almost picture your photo captioned: “Don’t let the city dull your shine!” or “Stylish at every age!”
Meanwhile, there I was, significantly younger, looking like I’d just auditioned for a role in “Failure: The Movie.” Sponsored by REI and despair. I can’t even manage to wear stilettos on sunny days. My options are limited to (1) crashing to the ground like a startled giraffe or (2) returning home with my feet a battlefield of blisters. So, you can imagine my struggle to express the sheer admiration I felt while watching you. I really wish I’d had the guts to ask if you offer lessons in being effortlessly cool. I could use a few pointers.
But, alas, I didn’t want to disturb your fabulous day. I knew I had to honor you somehow, so here I am, hoping you might stumble upon this—though I suspect you’re far too fabulous for the Internet. Your beaming smile amidst the grimy sleet was truly the highlight of my day. Keep strutting, my unidentified friend. May the rest of your day be as splendid as it began. I salute you from the depths of my frozen, winter-weary heart.
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In summary, I had an unexpected moment of inspiration while trudging through the slush, all thanks to a stylish senior in stilettos who reminded me that life—and fashion—don’t have to stop at any age.