"Don't wear this over 50": Did I say that?
In a summer exchange with an old friend, C., she mentioned that I had at some point listed "things women should never wear after age 50" on this blog and included "denim of any kind".
C. may have a better memory than mine, but it didn't feel like something I'd write. A search of posts by key words turned up nothing. I found only one about "what not to wear after 50", a 2011 list from Inès de La Fressange's book.
I found a shot of my studded denim skirt in another 2011 post—when I was already past 60—so there's more reason for me to doubt that I proscribed it:
In 2014, I posted on shopping for jeans; there is no single item (that you can see, anyway) that I wear more often.
The don'ts out there
I searched the Net for such articles (and thought I might turn up my own). Typically-banned items: clothes that read 'too young' (whiskered, ripped denim; tube tops) or 'too old' (elastic-waistband trousers; baggy cuts). Then there were idiosyncratic nominees: fleece, gold buttons, ethnic prints.
Divisive candidates included leather motos, leggings, Crocs, maxi dresses, florals, sweatpants, brooches.
If I issued such a list, I take it back, because I've have seen women in the Passage look splendid in everything from Japanese avant-garde to English country tweeds.
As I told C., there are only two items I don't like for age 50+ women: first, dolman sleeves, which depress one's posture and display the apparel industry's abdication of construction quality.
Second, over 50, your jewellery should be real. Not precious, but real—this post explains why, and also shows my own exceptions.
Beyond the list
I have, however, written about generational markers and their contribution to looking current (not "age-appropriate"). For women who grew up in North America in the '60s and '70s, these include hyper-matchy coordination, and precise, carefully-coiffed hair. If, when I say "Villager", you think of an a-line skirt, flowered blouse and grosgrain-trimmed cardigan, all matched, you were there, and had the knee socks to prove it.
We were imprinted like ducklings, so later choices became reflexive. Today, colour may be handled like this:
The woman in Scott Schuman's photo (above) is fashion illustrator (and his fiancée) Jenny Walton. When I was her age, 27, I would have found her outfit jarring—what's with that checked bag?— now, I like it.
A woman in the Passage should wear what pleases her, and keep an eye on the culture; however, she need not adopt every tic of the times. Walton's colour mashup may not be for you; the shirt half-tuck is not for me; I look interrupted while dressing.
Your evolution?
Few women buy into a firm age boundary, but stop wearing some things, and adopt others. For me, the last attempt at (moderate) high heels lasted for two hours, four years ago.
I wonder about you!
Has the passage of ten or so years affected your choices of what you wear? Are there things you have abandoned, or now embrace?
C. may have a better memory than mine, but it didn't feel like something I'd write. A search of posts by key words turned up nothing. I found only one about "what not to wear after 50", a 2011 list from Inès de La Fressange's book.
I found a shot of my studded denim skirt in another 2011 post—when I was already past 60—so there's more reason for me to doubt that I proscribed it:
In 2014, I posted on shopping for jeans; there is no single item (that you can see, anyway) that I wear more often.
The don'ts out there
I searched the Net for such articles (and thought I might turn up my own). Typically-banned items: clothes that read 'too young' (whiskered, ripped denim; tube tops) or 'too old' (elastic-waistband trousers; baggy cuts). Then there were idiosyncratic nominees: fleece, gold buttons, ethnic prints.
Divisive candidates included leather motos, leggings, Crocs, maxi dresses, florals, sweatpants, brooches.
If I issued such a list, I take it back, because I've have seen women in the Passage look splendid in everything from Japanese avant-garde to English country tweeds.
As I told C., there are only two items I don't like for age 50+ women: first, dolman sleeves, which depress one's posture and display the apparel industry's abdication of construction quality.
 |
| My costume necklace |
Beyond the list
I have, however, written about generational markers and their contribution to looking current (not "age-appropriate"). For women who grew up in North America in the '60s and '70s, these include hyper-matchy coordination, and precise, carefully-coiffed hair. If, when I say "Villager", you think of an a-line skirt, flowered blouse and grosgrain-trimmed cardigan, all matched, you were there, and had the knee socks to prove it.
We were imprinted like ducklings, so later choices became reflexive. Today, colour may be handled like this:
 |
| Photo: The Sartorialist |
A woman in the Passage should wear what pleases her, and keep an eye on the culture; however, she need not adopt every tic of the times. Walton's colour mashup may not be for you; the shirt half-tuck is not for me; I look interrupted while dressing.
Your evolution?
Few women buy into a firm age boundary, but stop wearing some things, and adopt others. For me, the last attempt at (moderate) high heels lasted for two hours, four years ago.
I wonder about you!
Has the passage of ten or so years affected your choices of what you wear? Are there things you have abandoned, or now embrace?
Comments
As a 70 yr old who is very short, overweight and very busty I have essentially given up finding anything beyond an occasional knit top online or in stores. Now that I can afford it, I've located some possible dressmaker options.
The styles and shapes that appeal the most to me and are the most flattering to my difficult shape are the simple A-line dresses, sleek suits, constructed pieces of the 60s and 70s. Think Jackie O, though our figures are very different.
The dilemma is how to design outfits that have those shapes but are updated.I'm not a vintage wearer. I want the elegance of the styles without looking like a TV rerun.
What hasn't changed is my love of funky shoes and changing my hair frequently.
Bunny: That's a wonderfully-specific list, and the rompers were a definite surprise!
grlinda: The look you are aiming for sounds like Céline and Alatzurra but their sizing is so restrictive; now I hope you can find someone to interpret it for you.
Lynn: I'll work up a post, but in brief, treat jeans just like trousers but wear ankle boots or shoes, really anything except running shoes. Add a simple top. More to come on this. Antique jade, ohhhh.
Laura H: What a wonderful place to be in. And with you on not 'saving for good'.
Roberta: I was in an underground mall last week and saw a woman well over 60 in a leopard print midi skirt, royal blue satin blouse and vertiginous heeled sandals. She stopped me in my tracks! I loved the audacity of the outfit but wondered how she worked all day in those shoes. They are not good for feet, knees, back... so bring on the funky lower heeled shoes!
As for the Villager and similar looks, I associate them with older and straighter cousins. Clothing changed dramatically in that brief period, and I certainly didn't want to be associated with straights. At the time that did not denote heterosexuals.
I rarely wore real high heels, except some stacked slightly mid-high ones.
One thing that greatly annoys me about the admonishments to women of a certain age is the assumption that they all have the means to buy good jewellery. I've worked for years in a community association here, and frankly it isn't so for many, especially for those who have had to make their lives over. Many are just thrilled to be done with abuse.
Agree with the comment above that women (of any age) should only wear "real" jewelry. I have always worked for a non-profit counseling the terminally ill. It is a low paying job but highly meaningful. I left an abusive husband 15 years ago and am so proud of my independence now. Believe me- the last thing on my mind is whether or not I am wearing "real" jewelry.
"Real" does not imply costly. When I say "real", I include •not only precious metals and gems, but also an array of organic elements, e.g., shells, wood, rock crystal, raffia, leather, an old bronze key on a silk cord•."
So to reiterate: "REAL" DOES NOT MEAN PRECIOUS.
If a woman wears jewellery, I believe it is worth thinking about what she is buying. Fake jewellery is HORRIBLE for the environment for several reasons: the labour conditions (mass-produced by the fast fashion industry); it ends up in landfills and does not degrade, and it's terrible value because it looks bad so soon.
So shiny fake 'turquoise' from the fast-fashion store is going to break and then be non-degradable. But I am not saying, "only buy genuine turquoise". I AM saying, rather than buying the fake, buy the real, regardless of your budget.
"Real" is within reach even on very, very limited means, just like scouting for used furniture. I can give many examples of things I or friends bought at garage sales, charity sales, and thrifts. Examples: A pretty nautilus shell pendant on linen string (free, given when I bought a desk lamp), a hand-enamelled silver pendant,$4; a handsome 1940s stamped copper bracelet, $5; a 35-inch strand of real freshwater pearls (in perfect condition), $25.
From the "Free" box on the street or at the tail end of garage sales: rock crystal art deco earrings; a leather bracelet that only needed saddle soap; a Mexican onyx and silver pin.
Humans have created jewellery for millenia. I do not like it as a display of wealth. I view it as an art form and think it is at its best when expressed through authentic, organic materials.
Your comments made me think about why I add the "after 50" part. I do not like fake stuff on young women either, but they are still forming their ability to make choices in all realms and can be dazzled by sparkly effects. By 50, real materials, whether wood or diamond, are more satisfying to wear, and •you're• real, why not extend that to your personal effects?
Besides advocating for real, I also advocate for knowing the artist who made the piece, when possible. Like any other item, handmade is differs from machine-made. Your mother took that to a very high level, using the time left to leave tokens of love. So moving.
Exceptionally beautiful late-summer light today.
There is a list somewhere, maybe in a book, that lists what a woman over a certain age should never wear, and it definitely includes no-denim. It’s the kind of thing that once you read you can’t forget. It takes that long to unstick your eyebrows from your hairline.
It’s not that surprising that it was written. I came of age in the ‘70’s, when denim-off-the-farm was still so new to mainstream that you were always reading advice about who could wear it, when, and where.
A child who loved dresses, I didn’t own a pair of jeans until age 12. Maybe that was my coming of age. I rarely wear dresses and love my denim.
The list that bans denim on women over 50 is not nearly that old, or it would not have had much shock value. It was possibly in this century that I read it. The author probably came from the day of articles dictating when one could tastefully wear denim.
I have no doubt C. did see that somewhere, and it may well be the opinion of a person who formed his or her sense of style before jeans invaded our closets. Makes sense to me.