I spent some time reading Harper's Bazaar in a waiting room today, it was in date too, which was a bonus! I haven't looked at that particular magazine for ages, as long as I can remember in fact, and it was very pleasing to do so. When I was much younger, in my twenties I guess, I would often buy it, or Vogue, or both. The format hasn't changed much, nor the content really as there seems to be an '80's revival and there are still so many young and beautiful models drifting through its pages.
Then I came across an article about someone real, she was very beautiful, of course, sort of floaty and wistful. I forgot to read the words, I just got caught up in the pictures, it was a beautiful life.
When I used to buy this magazine for myself, years ago, life held so many possibilities. It seemed that what went on in those pages may be attainable one day, fame, fortune, wealth and beauty, it all seemed to be there for the taking.
I am old enough now to realise that I will never have that sort of life. Perhaps old enough too to realise it might not all be as it seems. However, as I flipped through the pages, I mused that last weekend I was 45, and my life is already half spent. I have squandered some of it, wandered directionless for too long, filled it with mundane tasks, waited.....
As I came back to the real world, I reflected on how interesting it had felt to remember, just for a moment, what it was like to be young, and to believe absolutely anything could be possible. When did I lose that feeling?
PS. I didn't mean this post to be read in a negative way. I am not lamenting misspent youth, just remembering how different I felt then. I definitely wouldn't want to swap everything I know now for that long ago innocence. I am happy with my lot, really I am.