It has come to my attention that there are internexperts out there keen to help me to save myself from the utter humiliation of dressing in a manner inappropriate to my advanced years.
According to one of these, “Your main aims are to create stylish, smooth, lines using contemporary clothing styles that flatter your body shape and coloring..”
Strange as it may seem, dear, my main aim is NOT to “create stylish smooth lines using contemporary clothing styles that flatter my body shape and coloring”. Rather, my main aims, in no particular order are a) to smash patriarchy, b) to help develop an alternative to corporate capitalism that enables peace and equality and c) to have witty and charming people enjoy good food and conversation around my dinner table. And, by the way, I believe that the word you were looking for is “colouring”.
Let’s move on to this gem: “Looking at a full-length mirror after 60 is like running a gauntlet filled with emotional traps, irrational comparisons and destructive media messages.”
A gauntlet cannot be “filled”, you twit. The word “gauntlet” used in this context refers to 2 lines of soldiers, not a bloody glove. Poor literacy aside, looking at a full-length mirror after 60 is like, well, looking in a full-length mirror. If you once looked in a full length mirror aged 19 and then didn’t look again until you reached 60, I can imagine that your reflection might come as a bit of a shock. But then I suspect if you’d spent the last 41 years in a place that doesn’t have mirrors you’d have other things on your mind.
Now to these 2 examples, from completely different sources, which give us some insight into the type of person so selflessly giving of their valuable time in order to help those of us who are in real and present danger of committing serious style faux pas:
“(Over 60) ..there is one person in the fashion industry that should be your best friend. ..I’m talking about your tailor.“ and
“The most important thing in my wardrobe is my seamstress”.
The latter commentator presumably goes on to say that the most important thing in her kitchen is her cook, and that she has had her carpenter build a simply perfect bijou residence under the sink for her maid.
Unfortunately, my tailor and seamstress appear to have eloped to Narnia through the back of my wardrobe, and thus I find myself pitifully reduced to breaking some of the most fundamental rules of how to dress over 60 (my italics).
WEAR ANKLE BOOTS ONLY WITH TROUSERS. This will ensure that your legs are protected from any unsightly blood splashes resulting from using said ankle boots to kick 7 kinds of shit through anyone who tries to tell you what to wear.
KEEP LEGGINGS FOR THE GYM, and even then, please wear them pulled way down over your head so that the rest of us don’t have to look at your hideous face and neck. We all know that NO-ONE wants to look at the neck of a woman over 60.
STEER CLEAR OF MINI SKIRTS even when worn by other people. In particular, try not to sit next to anyone on the 38 bus who is wearing a mini-skirt.
STICK TO SKINNY BELTS. It doesn’t really matter who is wearing them, but stick to them at all costs. Superglue can be helpful in this regard.
DON’T WEAR T-SHIRTS WITH ANYTHING WRITTEN ON THEM unless the t-shirt says, “don’t you dare fucking tell me what to wear, you supercilious motherfucker.”
DON’T WEAR LEATHER JACKETS unless you are also wearing a motorbike crash helmet so no-one can see your hideous, wrinkled over 60-year-old face and neck. Or wear leggings as advised in point 2.
AVOID BIG JEWELLERY, if tempted to wear your big jewellery, make it easier on yourself by placing it well out of reach, perhaps in a safety deposit box in Hatton Garden. Or not
P.S. There will be an award to the first person to correctly name the chap that should not be illustrating my t-shirt.