The Ivy Pinkerton Files

 

Airbrushed by the sea

A little while ago, I attended my niece’s bat mitzvah. It was an inspired affair, topped off with a teen-infused, Beatle band banquet and dance party. One of the attractions at the reception, aimed appropriately at thirteen year old attendees, was an airbrushed T-shirt stand. So kitschy, right?

But I wanted one, bad. Not just any one, but one featuring a flaming heart on the front and a statement that “I rocked out” at this particular great young lady’s Bat Mitzvah on the back.

Why did I so want this shirt? Truth be told, the teens convinced me. Despite all the awkwardness of hormonal changes and shape shifting, thirteen is one of the most delightful, albeit painful, time in ones life – full of potential, of becoming, but not knowing what the hell will happen next. As someone in my late twenties (wink, wink), I am as Edith Wharton said in the House of Mirth, past the point where “the warm fluidity of youth is chilled into its final shape”. And what better captures the teenage, fluid spirit than an airbrushed t-shirt?

Shortly thereafter, I found myself on a Dominican Republic beach trip with four close female friends. Among the crashing waves and the rowdy company it was the perfect venue to debut my inner teen.

At the sea, my airbrushed T-shirt and I were in perfect harmony.

--IP