I'm about to have an outburst. Please be warned. I don't normally do this on my blog, but, ooh, I've got myself all riled up. And not in a good way. This could get ugly.
Who decided that women need to dress age appropriately? What exactly does age appropriate mean? And, why, as a woman "of a certain age", am I expected to dress according to someone else's idea of what constitutes being appropriate or not?
I have stumbled across a couple of things this week that have left me quietly perplexed.
The first was a question posed to me by someone I consider to be beautiful, intelligent, stylish and sassy. A friend in their mid-thirties who expressed concern that they weren't dressing age appropriately. They looked amazing. Fantastic. Completely and utterly bang on. And yet, they weren't sure if what they were wearing was age appropriate or not. I felt sad that there was any concern at all over what they were wearing, and completely frustrated that many women over a certain age do this to themselves.
The second thing that got me going, was a blog post by
Vix, over at
Vintage Vixen. Vix is a wonderful woman who never ceases to inspire me with her joie de vivre and her gorgeous style.
Vix was expressing her dismay (quite rightly) at an episode of Gok's Fashion Roadshow. I have mixed feelings about Gok Wan. On the one hand he comes across as kind and likeable. On the other, here is a man who says he likes women but who, in fact, dresses them up like librarians and sends them off into the world prepared to conform to his idea of what constitutes "age appropriate style". He also calls breasts "bangers".
Having read Vix's blog post, I sat and watched the programme. Then I found myself getting acid indigestion with frustration. A poor woman of the hugely advanced age of 33 (ye-gads, 33) was dressing in a way that was considered too young for her age. And it was her friends who told her this. On camera. Her friends, people. Nice. She was 33, for crying out loud. What exactly constitutes age inappropriate at 33? A nappy, as far as I'm concerned.
Now, I could get on board with Gok's desire to help women feel good about their naked bodies. But he's gone and lost me advocating "age appropriate" to a 33 year old.
I have a style philosophy. If it makes you feel fabulous put the bugger on. If that means you end up going to Tesco's dressed in nipple tassels and a pair of y-fronts and you feel like Marilyn Monroe, then knock yourself out. (Not literally, although I am aware that nipple tassels can do that to you if you're skilled in making them jangle.) Obviously if you're doing the school run you might need to take a coat. It's chilly this time of year.
I'm not being facetious here. I mean it.
I'm not interested in making the rest of the world happy with what I'm wearing. I'm interested in feeling happy, joyful and fun-loving for me.
As far as I can see, being age appropriate is the modern day equivalent of having bound feet. Trying to bend myself into someone else's image of beauty. I don't want to be someone else's image of beauty, I want to be my own.
Me.
Wearing hideously age-inappropriate earrings and boots.
Shocker.
I am 43. My hair is long and I wear enormous Minnie Mouse bows in it. I wear honking great earrings and false eye-lashes. I wear knee-high lace-up boots that I bought when I was the tender age of 25, and I intend to wear those bleeders till they fall off my legs. I wear short skirts, long skirts, and skirts in-between.
I don't believe it's about being age appropriate. I believe it's about finding your style and going with it. I believe it's about leaving the house feeling fantastic. Or staying home and lounging around in a gorgeous outfit feeling like a less pink version of Barbara Cartland as you drift around your home.
For me, being age appropriate isn't about dressing to someone else's style. It's about finding my own, whatever my age, and shining each and every time I put an outfit together and step out of the front door. It's about finding my panache and pizazz. And if that panache and pizazz is about pulling on velvet hot pants and green patterned tights when I'm 65 years of age, and stepping out onto the street feeling like a movie star, then Gok Wan be warned, I'm going to do it.
If the 33 year old woman on Gok Wan's show came away feeling amazing, filled with style vigour and sizzling with confidence as a result of Gok dressing her in a beige cardie, then I'll hush my mouth. I hope she did.
So, Vix, I salute you, your style, your panache and pizazz.
There. I'm done. Outburst over.
I feel much better.
What do you feel about the age appropriate question?