>…Or dressing up your age.
I’m all for doing what the heart tells you to, living the way you want to. But somewhere in me, I admit, is ingrained my convent education telling me that some things need to be done the way they need to be done. There’s a time and place for everything, and 50 is not the time to dress up like you’re 25.
I am guilty of being judgemental there. There may be under that garish outfit a very good heart. But can I just blame my fashion sensibilities on my convent education again? Because I do find something distasteful about a person dressing up to look at least 20 years younger. Isn’t aging gracefully all about accepting that you need to let the new order take over without fighting with all your bling and bright colours to stay where you are no longer fit to be? And perhaps what’s distasteful to me is not the appearance – as unflattering as it might be – as much as the desperation to look younger.
At 30, I should be wary of making such statements, or writing such posts. For, of all my fears, my biggest is not being able to accept that I’m growing old. How much longer before I am too old to be sporting fashion that college-goers do? I mean, I already am that old. Love as much as I do the college trends, I am careful of not emulating them because a). I’m not in college and b). I’m not 18. But I still wear clothes and colours I love. Because dressing up well needn’t be about dressing up like your kids. I love yummy mummies, oh yes, I do. But a mother (or a MIL) who’s competing with two generations her junior? Not my cup of tea.
I’m not a fashion critic (how I’d love to be!), but I do know that while some people can own a look irrespective of their age and carry it off with elan, others just come out of it looking like an aging Elvis competing with the Beatles. And Elvis lost his fans because he wanted so badly to be like the Beatles! Is it too much to ask for fashion restraint when you’re growing older?