It's a damp, quiet and lonely day in my home. Feelings of aloneness are more acute today as I look around for things to read in order to avoid doing the ironing.According to an article in today's paper, I am too old to wear: a) mini-skirts (why would I want to?); b) pussy-bow blouses (I never have); c) banana flat shoes, (ugh); d) spaghetti strap maxi dresses (so unflattering); or e) anything that shows a cleavage (I prefer to keep my bust covered, with or without an ill-fitting bra)!
No doubt of surprise to some - (in the Trinny and Gok camp), the majority of us have a good idea of what suits and flatters us, even if we have to shop at low-budget stores.
I read the article and thought, it really doesn't apply to me anyway... I don't go anywhere, so prefer to wear jeans or trousers and usually a T-shirt or cotton blouse (without a pussy-bow - whatever that is)!
Then I read another article that said, 'Latest research has shown that by the time women reach 48 they are the sadder sex, while men start to enjoy the best years of their lives.' The article went on to give a variety of reasons, one of them being widowhood and they qualified men's apparent enjoyment in middle-age as being due to earning more and having a good married home life. No comment!
Isn't it about time the media celebrated women of a certain age? We now look and feel younger than our mothers and grandmothers did at the same age; we have confidence, knowledge and sophistication as well as earning power. Articles on smart, elegant and ageless dressing would be good... without stereotypying us maturing women and giving us tips on dressing for our age! Style is Style, whatever the age.
I feel better for having had my say... even though just a handful of people may read this... if I'm lucky. So I gaze out of my window at the pouring rain and the patio table that hasn't had it's parasol unfurled all summer, thinking wouldn't it be nice to dress up and go out somewhere for once? Preferably with a man who is content but, not married.
