In a recent comment one of you paraphrased, and praised, a quote by “Advanced Style” blogger and author, Ari Cohen.He said in an interview that if we were exposed to more photos of older, mature women dressed beautifully [that] then younger women would not be so afraid of growing old.Interesting. Perhaps one could compare this notion to a sort of positive psychological imprinting wherein constant exposure to something makes us see it as “normal” and every day.
We are not duped by the fact that recently purveyors of products find our demographic interesting. After all we do get up, apply makeup (then take it off — more stuff), fuss to a certain degree with our hair, get dressed and get out there. We need or desire new clothes and most of us tend to be interested in a few cosmetic and treatment products. In other words, we’re spending.
No matter. It’s good news whatever the mercantile motives for beginning to feature older models in advertisements or, which I find less interesting, actresses of a certain age.I think my perception of age was somewhat skewed by my mother. She was 44 when I was born. She was tall, slim and stunning. She wore trousers and men’s shirts with Pappagallo flats (does anyone remember them?), red lipstick and Arpege perfume.
In other words, she was my first fashion reference and she was not a 20-something mother. She loved clothes and was drawn to the masculine/feminine aesthetic which she attributed to the fact her father owned a menswear store. From a very young age she chose many of her clothes from the racks in his store which were then altered to fit her properly by his tailor.
|Another way to look at birthdays. . .|
This month I will be, I hesitate to use the word “celebrating” my birthday. I’m telling myself, and I think I believe it, that I’m not disturbed by the number, but rather by the fact that there are so many things I want to do. Believe me I’m not being maudlin. I’m lucky in so many ways and take nothing for granted.
One thing is certain, time is precious and I’ve got things to do and people to see. And suddenly I’m in a hurry. Being in a hurry indicates youth does it not? Maybe I’ve found the latest anti-age antidote. (I started to write “anecdote” which is probably more accurate.)
My long ago mentor in my first job at Women’s Wear Daily told me that it was important that to feel good about yourself one must do something positive and productive every day because each day is an opportunity to accomplish something. “Then,” she said, “when you go to bed at night you know you haven’t wasted your day and tomorrow you begin all over again.”I thought when I started writing this post that I had a specific point to make, but I can see it has turned into a stream of consciousness ramble. Now I’m trying to think of a way to avoid platitudes and say something mildly meaningful. That way I can go to bed tonight feeling as if I’ve accomplished something.
Oh, I know. . .
I plan to make a list, not a long one mind you, of what I want to accomplish in my new year. I simply adore making lists. This one will include: visit Chicago; maybe go to New York; buy a new navy blue cashmere V-neck sweater (how exciting is that?); polish up my book proposal and, just in general, hope for the best and forget about those numbers.
My father, whom I adored, died when I was 10. One morning he left for his office and never returned. On his way home from work he pulled over to the side of the road and died of a heart attack, so I truly understand how fragile life can be.I do not wish to dwell on numbers. I simply want to get on with it: slather on those creams, apply my makeup, get dressed and get out there ever fighting the good fight and all the while trying to prove that style and a little flair have no expiration dates. (We’ll see how that works out for the duration.)
A bottom of the list P.S.:
Re-think neck lift.
Buy more scarves.
Get over yourself.
I’m off to Paris to meet Duchesse for lunch and shopping. I’ll give you a report.