Today is my birthday (the best 26th birthday ever…this is, like, the twelvth one…?) , and I’ve really noticed a change this year. For one, if I’m ever seen without makeup, people ask me if I’m feeling okay (actually, people have been doing that now for about ten years). In pictures, I exhibit a trademark appearance of perpetual exhaustion (I also learned this year not to be photographed with your reports at work who are 10-15 years your junior with long blond hair, perfect teeth and skin) . I observe a sort of conservation-of-beauty-effect: I watch my daughters blossom while my own looks fade. I’m focusing on the parts that are still good: I still have pretty decent fingernails and my calves are still bearable in public. Palms of hands also still acceptable. Brain still mostly functioning.

As I think about youth, I find myself more and more wishing I could fit into my kids’ clothes — or at the very least that they made clothes like that in my size. One of my favorite purveyors of childrens’ fine clothing is Tea Collection, a San-Francisco-based line with global influence. My daughter has a purple tank-and-capri combo that is just to die for. They change their international theme seasonally, which keeps the collection interesting, and the clothes are really well-made: high quality materials, elegant cuts with simple but sophisticated drape. If you hurry , they’re having a Tea Collection sale on Gilt today. Tea offers kids’ sizes up to 8, so my children only have a few more years to enjoy this experience. As they say, youth is wasted on the young.