Lordy, Lordy, Look Who's Forty

Skirt: Modcloth

Spoiler alert: it's me!  Yes, it's official.  Today I enter my fourth decade.  There was a time when I thought that meant a minivan and mom jeans.  Or, worse yet, humiliation in the form of a Grim Reaper-themed rager.

When I was seven, my uncle threw my dad a surprise party for his fortieth.  There were black balloons everywhere, and the walls were covered with tee shirts showing my dad struggling up a hill.  There was even one of those canes with a horn on it.  Everyone was having a wonderful time, laughing and scarfing down shrimp.  And I was incredibly angry.  How dare they make fun of my father like that and ruin his birthday with hideous decorations!  (Years later, I learned that my uncle wanted to hire a stripper but didn't because my sister and I would be there.  That would've been truly traumatizing.)  Anyway, my parents explained that there was no need to be upset, that the party was all in good fun.  And I begrudgingly accepted that, taking comfort in my enormous neon green hair bow and an endless stream of Shirley Temples.

So today, I'm celebrating my fortieth, not in black, but the way I celebrate everything -- in big, bold rainbow colors.  I may be older and wiser -- and have a few gray hairs -- but I still have the carefree fashion sense of that little girl in the green bow.

That said, if you ever catch me in a minivan, then the Grim Reaper has already arrived.