Dressing age-appropriately is overrated

ALL my life I have loved clothes and the capriciousness of fashion. I have marked every occasion with a new dress. I seem to have spent my 30s and 40s acquiring all sorts of patterns and accessories. I then spent my 50s wearing age-appropriate clothes to match my menopausal mood.

By 60, I received sartorial enlightenment: dressing age-appropriately is overrated. I should dress for myself only, and in clothes that make me happy (with a fascinating vintage twist, of course).

Like many ladies my age (62), I fret about lost youth. Our bodies betray us in their determination to sag, bloat, flab, droop and sprout. The rate of bodily attrition is unstoppable and relentless. Yes, threescore years of living and loving, learning and forgetting, acquiring and shedding, have converged into who I am today. The march of years will only stop at the journey’s end. Till then, I owe it to myself to live as passionately as I can.

I like to express my style through the clothes I wear. I have always loved the English country look and my favourite is the full-skirted day dress of fine English cotton. I am entranced by blouses with a collar of handmade white lace. I relish dresses with deep pockets whether concealed or patched.

I pick on the theme of elegance. Occasionally, I might even dare a low-cut neckline that shows a peep of cleavage. Yeah, why not? Ladies in their 60s, 70s and 80s ought not be banished from the realm of the chic and stylish.

Today’s grannies are different from those of yesteryear. In the olden days, grandmothers dutifully wore their hair in a bun and sat knitting in their rocking chairs. Once retired, they seemed to have a renewed interest in gardening and tending to their vegetable plots.

The modern grandmother is tech-savvy. Some run businesses, are avid travellers, exercise buffs or are furthering their education. If time isn’t such a limited commodity, the opportunities abound. Sixty is an age when you feel that time is running out, and we should quickly get our act together before the final curtain falls.

It is time to dress up every day, and not only for special occasions. Do spritz on perfume and ditch the cliched grandma scent of baby powder.

As ladies grow older, the lipstick increases in importance. A dash of colour on the lips energises and psyches me up. Since mature skin tends to look sallow with age, a few strokes of blusher will immediately give a healthy glow to the cheeks.

Do not listen to naysayers who deem grooming shallow. We are not supposed to mellow with age nor fade into the background, but rejoice that we have come this far to celebrate this grand milestone.

Women who have lived before us fought for equal pay and the right to vote. They succeeded and we now enjoy the benefits and suffrage.

Similarly, I maintain that senior ladies dress to their own drumbeat. For a start, this granny goes for snazzy jeans instead of staid pants with elastic waistbands, and white linen shorts instead of body-friendly attire. My feet are shod in hot pumps and kitten heels instead of orthopaedic loafers.

Ladies, if you have sped past 60 like yours truly, do enjoy this second girlitude before vanishing into the twilight zone. Believe me, everything is changing fast. I sense uncertainty ahead, uncharted territory between grandmotherhood and the sweet by and by.

But for now, let us seize the day and have some harmless fun in our dressing.

While I was sitting at my desk writing down my thoughts, I had a flashback of myself in my early 30s. Already a mother of two by then, I was still svelte and could wear any clothes I fancied.

I remember paying homage to a chiffon dress with full pleats and dainty bound buttons at the bodice in a window display at an upmarket boutique. Money was tight and I had to look away. I am sure I could afford it now should a similar opportunity present itself, but my expanded girth would not do it justice. Ah, it was just an afternoon’s reverie of youth past. Things never stay the same. That is why we need to live in the moment and as the poet says, catch “the joy as it flies”.

Clothes still have a hold on me – the flicker of joy as I slip into a new dress, skirt or blouse never wanes.

I admit that clothes are not the stuff of life, and neither are many other objects of desire such as cars, watches, handbags and shoes. To others, clothes are no more than material covering the body, but to me, dressing is a form of self-expression.

In my deepest core – past the aches, creaking joints and other ravages of time – I feel years younger. I still have an appetite for life, and as for my choice of clothes as I grow older, I hope I am handling it with grace and elegance.

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