I'm 52 years old. In the world of fashion, it is an awkward in-between age. It reminds me of when I was 13 and was too old for the Girls department but couldn't fill out the sweaters in Juniors. At least then I had something to look forward to.
As I imagine my 52-year-old self in all the cutest summer ensembles, I know that I am not their target market, but how far from the bullseye am I? I look at what the mannequin is wearing, and try to judge how old she is supposed to be. Without crow's feet, gray hair or a sagging bustline, it's hard to tell. But I stare at each mannequin as if I am in a museum studying a great work of art, all the while thinking to myself, "Is that outfit too young for me?"
I can't seem to find anyone who knows the 50ish fashion rules. My friends are mostly in denial. My husband, who bless his heart, still thinks I look like a blushing bride, tells me I'm being silly. My mother has a vested interest in my continuing youth and has taken to telling people I'm my father's daughter from his first marriage.
Sometimes it is obvious. I appreciate a store called Forever 21 because they make it very clear. Stores should have ratings, like movies, so we would know. There's nothing more frustrating than going into a fitting room with an armful of clothes and realizing that the pants are much too low cut and the scoop necks are much too scoopy. I can't imagine under what circumstances I would intentionally show my belly button.
But even stores that I would assume are looking for the likes of me are confusing. Do 50-year old women wear shorts? In public? I think I still look fine in them, as fine as I ever looked, anyway. My varicose veins are worse each year, but with a little Jergens "tan in a tube" I think they are less noticeable. Of course my eyesight has deteriorated and I think that helps.
These are the rare moments when I wish I had a daughter. My fantasy daughter would not let me walk out of the house in a bad outfit. She would come shopping with me and find the perfect age appropriate choices. She would bluntly say, "You look like a hooker," or "Those pants make your butt look huge," and I would be grateful for the feedback.
Wouldn't I?
Monday, April 23, 2012
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