Oh, the gloriously free and fun years of our youth. Was anything more exciting than planning a night out dancing and club-hopping with your best girlfriends? The prep, the music, the day-after analysis—every moment was a thrill!
Now that we’re all paired off parents making lots of babies it’s a liiiiittle bit trickier to coordinate getting out again, but we still make it happen. And it’s almost the same as it used it be.
THEN: You spent an hour on hair and make-up.
NOW: You spend an hour getting into your Spanx.
THEN: You plotted out taxi and bus routes to the club so no one had to drive.
NOW: You pick the friend with the minivan who’s still breastfeeding or pregnant to be your designated driver.
THEN: The club you chose was wild, practically exclusive and you didn’t even show up until after midnight.
NOW: The club you choose is centrally located, has free parking and you are some of the first people to show up because you’ve been looking forward to this for three years.
THEN: You brought the cutest handbag ever that totally matched your outfit—even your sexy lace push-up bra.
NOW: You shove your phone, ID, Visa and some cash into your full-coverage, flesh-toned bra.
THEN: You sacrificed comfort for style in sky-high, magnificent stilettos that showed off your gams.
NOW: You sacrifice style for comfort in practical low heels that fit your pillow-like orthopedic inserts.
THEN: It took you ages to make it onto the dance floor, nervous you might look like a fool.
NOW: It takes you .003 seconds to make it onto the dance floor, dance-battling your friends to see who can look like a bigger fool.
THEN: Cheap beer, cheap wine, cheap vodka, everyone got, “I guess whatever she’s having.”
NOW: Top-shelf cocktails, champagne, notes slipped to the bartender of exactly how you like it done.
THEN: When the music stopped, your voice sounded like Demi Moore’s.
NOW: When the music stops, your voice sounds like James Earl Jones’s.
THEN: You lost your contact lens.
NOW: You lose your ability to stand upright.
THEN: The next day over brunch you kept asking your friends, “Do you think he likes me? Do you think he’ll call?”
NOW: The next day over FaceTime you keep asking your friends, “Do your shoulders ache, too?”
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