Dressing Your Age

The fashion media are designed (no pun intended) to tell us what to wear, how to wear it, and where to go once we're in the perfect outfit. Fine. That kind of harmless and fluffy advice I'll happily sign up for. But when they take the position of knowing better than I do, what I should and should not wear depending on my age... well, I draw the line there.

The worst offender is Harpers Bazaar who run a regular feature called "Fabulous At Every Age". It details how to wear current trends, broken down by each decade - from the 20's to the 70's. Ladies of every age are represented, as the editors and stylists feverishly wade through the latest and greatest fashion has to offer, spelling out what is age appropriate and by omission, what isn't. As expected, 20 and 30-something girls are permitted to sport short hems, frilly carefree frocks, and given free reign to be as wild and eccentric as they want. Meanwhile, the rest of us mere mortals stand by and watch as the clothes just get plain dowdier and dowdier as the decades increase. Sorry but the likelihood I will ever wear a Chanel brocade jacket carries the same odds as finding a fully in-tact, snow cone in hell.

The sub text is clear - it's the older ladies that need guidance for youth holds no bounds. Just for the record, not all offenders are middle-aged and older. Someone (Harpers Bazaar, perhaps?) please tell my youthful counterparts that just because they're 21, doesn't mean they look good in ANYTHING. Have some taste ladies. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

While I agree that not all women have the necessary filter to make smart fashion decisions on their own, I still resent being told I can no longer wear certain hem lines, or rock edgy wares just because I'm not fresh out of high school. Sure, if you're 50, a studded, leather jacket and thigh high boots might not be the best course of action. But heck, if you can rock it, why not? And anyway, isn't that a matter of taste and style, not age? You be the one to tell Kim Gordon to trade in her Daryl K for Ann Taylor - here's hoping you get a solid, tongue-lashing in return. I for one refuse to picture Chrissie Hynde and Debbie Harry in J Crew or Anthropologie, and I'd rather die than have Susan Sarandon tuck away those magnificent breasts of hers, just because she's past the 60 mark. Which brings me to another train of thought...

Edith Wharton wrote in The House of Mirth,"A woman is asked out as much for her clothes as for herself." I believe this to be true. However, I refuse to be taken hostage by it. I've never taken into account what a man thinks is sexy, and I'm sure as shit not going to start now. There's a difference between feeling sexy and dressing sexy. If a woman gushes pheremones because of the way a pair of torn,skinny Acne jeans and a military-inspired jacket makes her feel, well don't think for a minute her date isn't going to pick up on that too. It has nothing to do with fuck-me-pumps and a mini skirt and everything to do with authenticity. If being in your 40's means being more comfortable in your skin,shouldn't your choice in clothing be a natural extension of that too? And don't we all want a man who values that over come-hither clothing?

I attribute my methodology in large part to my fabulous mother. One of the most stylish women I know - she outdid Twiggy in the sixties, Annie Hall in the 70's, Norma Kamali in the 80's, and continues to forge her own uniqueness at 62 - she once asked me if I dress for men or women. Even at the age of 16, I understood the relevance and weight of this seemingly innocuous question. I replied without hesitation, "WOMEN!" I have never cared for men who ogle, and I certainly don't want my fashion mood for the day dictated by what they think is hot. If it's converse I want to wear, it's converse I'm gonna wear. High tops, black, full of holes and totally punk rock. They've been a wardrobe staple since I was 12 and I'm not gonna change now. No, I would much rather walk by a group of cool girls who ogle my STYLE, not my ass.

Yes, it's my fabulous mother who taught me to match my socks and shirt at the tender age of 2, and let me work my own fashion sensibilities even when it was simply the coolest running shoes, scratch and sniff t-shirts, and Vidal Sassoon jeans. Self expression was the name of the game. Always was, still is. Men, or boys were never a factor. The fact that most of them always went for the girls with long, flowing hair and pretty dresses (and for the most part continue to do so) was never a game changer for me. I'm still the same rough and tumble tomboy I was back then, only now I mix my converse with Prada and Jil Sander. I'm age appropriate because I wear what I like. And I had great training.