Dressing Your Age

Nope. Don’t believe in it. Anti it. The whole mutton dressed as a lamb theory is so sexist and disgusting to me. I BELIEVE people should dress the way they want at any age. Any size. Any shape. Any gender. Any religion.


Why not don a pastel candy necklace? Who says I shouldnt?  I call this look a nod to my childhood. And its delicious.

I am not obsessed with trends or dressing young.

I am obsessed with fashion and wearing what makes me feel awesome. And the rest I don’t care about.


Be free. I want to see a 50-year-old in a crop top. I think it would be fabulous. A 40-year-old in a velvet cami top. A 60-year-old in a bikini. Ahhmazing.

Fashion isn’t for only the thin and it’s certainly not only for the young.


Me above in my 20’s heading to a festival. I wore this same look 10 years maybe later almost head to toe not too long ago. Minus the glitter gumboots. I only have black patent rainboots now. Sad face.

I also love wearing long socks. Not in a Lolita way but in a cozy grey knit layering way. And im probably going to wear long socks when I am 50. And I am sick of men double looking this look like I am some weird sexo.


Ironic t-shirt. Why not wear them at 30,40, or 100. Irony is lost on most teenagers – sowhy waste   a great ironic t-shirt on them? Juvenile is not an insult. 

Why should a hem line drop with age?  Who made up that rule. What if my legs want to be free that day and not clothed just above or below the knee. I mean as long as I can’t see your brittany im ok with a mini skirt on anyone.

Women are so worried about a vein here or some cellulite there. That refuse to bear their own legs. In shame. It’s so wrong. Society influences this ideal notion of beauty and body type that ends up imprisoning women especially as we get older.


Seriously every woman should own a tutu.

You know what doesn’t descriminate – style, flair, confidence and acceptance. Along with playfulness. I feel like society forces women to give up after a certain age or sometimes even after motherhood. We are supposed to morph into cardigan & pearl wearing asexual beings. Invited to wear only understated and invisible bland typle clothes.


Have fun. Be a ballerina. Be a flower child. Dress like a man. Or a dominatrix. Or a cocaine cowboy.  What ever makes you feel good and fun and free. And expressive. And speaks to you.

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Life is short. Clothes are fun.


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