I have developed a new skill – I’m mostly invisible. It’s an old person’s skill I believe. I’m learning about it – and its true!
Being the eternal activist for my favourite gripes, a rebel, a contrarian by nature and birth, I’m figuring out how I could use my new skill for my own amusement.
Invisibility in the elderly contains several aspects.
Firstly, bits and pieces of your person become invisible. Boobs disappear. or hang down “like bloodhound’s ears” as our mother used to say. Eyebrows and lashes become translucent white. The hair on your head becomes either invisible so your scalp shines through with pink luminosity, or whatever hair you had disappears altogether so your hearing aids show.
Your intelligence becomes invisible to others – though you know exactly what you intend to say, and despite not having Alzheimer’s, you can’t remember place names or useful words to explain yourself. Your intellectual presence becomes invisible. But your brain is still ticking over quite lucidly.
Out in the street, you are totally invisible, except to other old people, who smile, nod, say “Morning!” brightly, and affirm your presence. Anyone about sixty, has a vague idea you are there, and young people haven’t a clue that old people walk the streets at all because in their narcissism, they never see us. Sometimes they notice a dog though.
So what to do?
Should I simply fade out, becoming more and more invisible and meekly accept my fate?
should I bust through this invisibility shield by becoming really excentric?
How could I do that?
I could wear big padded bras, pouted pigeon style.
I could update the eyebrows and use very bright, spangle mascara to match my different coloured wigs – a colour for each day of the week.
Or perhaps going Steampunk would be noticeable?
I love Steampunk!
Or I could just go on blogging…..