What She Eats, 2012
When I returned home last week I took a quick look at what I'd missed on Twitter and was stopped by this tweet.
I've accidentally come into town dressed as a 45yo and I'm getting "madam"-ed left right and centre.
I thought of replying to ask what she had worn. My birthday this month had just let me into this year of my life and I wondered if there were certain garments I should be wearing. Then I recalled a rule my friends and I had when we were in our mid-twenties.
Once you see a fashion reach the 35 year old moms, cease wearing it immediately. It's over.
Oh my. I've exceeded this grim and tragic age by ten years now. I felt a little jab in my heart. Time does pass quickly.
I momentarily longed for those mid-twenties, and my invincibility, but quickly remembered I was even more fragile and susceptible to such little jabs in the heart back then. Wisdom is strength.
I looked down at my jeans and my fresh-from-the-wash unironed oxford, and then into the mirror at my subtly glossed lips and my ponytail. No need for guidance. I like what I wear.