Retiring with Satorial Splendor

You know that old poem, Warning, When I’m an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple, by Jenny Joseph, in 1961?  I mention the date of publication because it was written a year before I was born and I think it was written specifically for me, in a prophetic-like way.

My fashion hero, the magnificent Iris Afpel Credit: Luis Monteiro

I  have written about this before and have told you that I come from a long line of Magpies who can not resist anything sparkly.   In fact, we have a tendency to pile on every sparkle in the jewelry box; this works really well around the holidays.  Frankly, we outshine the Christmas tree and feel that we are adding beauty to the season.  

There’s another old adage that advises women to take off one item of jewelry before leaving the house so as not to appear “over the top.”  “Utter rubbish!” say the great aunties Winnie, Kate and Theresa, “Stick on another bling, and one more if you have it.”  

When my Auntie Iris died, cousin John gave me a selection of her jewelry.  There’s not one piece that’s a Plain Jane.  Everything sparkles and shines and makes me feel happy, just as they made Auntie happy.  Right now, I’m sitting here typing away while wearing Auntie Iris’s favorite pin, a little number with pink sparkles to set off the fake milky green stones.  It’s the pièce de résistance to an otherwise sedate outfit.  I expect Lily down any moment.  She will cast a baleful look at it. “I’m not taking you anywhere dressed like that,” she will say. 

She shall be ignored.  

For the past 16 years, I have worn, pretty much every day, Costco jeans, Old Navy t-shirts and sensible sneakers.  Everything had to be sturdy, washable and cheap, mainly because of the foreign matter wiped on them by small children.  At the end of the school year, they wouldn’t even be worthy of Goodwill.  They would have to be tossed.   I started wearing glasses exclusively as a way to protect my eyes from poking fingers and flying objects.  Plus the glasses had to be practical too so as not to break when sent flying across the room by a misplaced elbow.  And forget about earrings, unless you want your earlobe ripped off.  No, I have become a baked potato of fashion…beige, lumpy and unadorned.

When I opened my wardrobe back in June, to prepare for a trip to England, I had nothing to wear.   So I went shopping and bought some attractive items that went well with each other and which made me feel good.  While on the King’s Road in Chelsea, I took Lily on an excursion to my fav shop, Zara, and bought a cute pair of blue pants with large roses splashed all over, and a little white top with a piecrust collar.  I get pleasure just looking at these items.

Back to that pathetic bunch of rags, I sighed and remembered my teen years and early ‘20s when I was a fashion plate with cool shoes, cute outfits and matching accessories.  I favored Nine West, Bandolino, Topshop and Benetton.  I carefully matched my handbags to my shoes and my shoes to my outfit and my outfit to my belt and my belt to my jewelry.  I mean, I was an It-girl.  What happened to that girl?  When did I get so practical?  I needed a new outlook on life and retirement offered that opportunity.  I’m gonna haul out that young twenty-something and find my flair.  I’m gonna dress like I have a social calendar each day and head to the grocery store looking chic.

And then, I found my drug of choice - “Thredup - an online thrift up, flaunt it, set it free” shop where I can browse from the comfort of my sofa.    It’s an intentional way to find amazing deals on my favorite brands without breaking my bank account (which John appreciates) and all the while, “rejecting the throw-away culture of fashion and standing for sustainability.”  That’s what it says on their website.  I received my first box announcing itself with the signature blue dots all over the box and now I’m hooked.  John and Lily are complaining about my constant scrolling on the Thred-up website.  They have a point.  I do need to dial it down a bit because it is becoming a little obsessional, a trait I am known for.  But it ticks all my boxes and is helping me to experiment and it feels a lot like playing dress-up.  It has put the joy back in my mornings and a certain je nais se quois back into my days.  

I strongly advise all new retirees to take stock of your fashion choices and ramp it up.  You will enjoy your dotage years with so much more flair and originality.  You’ll feel happy. You'll decorate your corner of the world, and..The Aunties would be proud!

  

Here’s the poem that has inspired this change in attitude…