“I don’t mind making jokes but I don’t want to look like one.” M. Monroe
Words every person should bear in mind when they take that last look in the mirror before leaving their house. And worthwhile advice many of my peers should take note of because lately I have begun to witness, in ever increasing numbers,the spectacle of women dressing like they were not just one but two and sometimes three decades younger. It is not just alarming it is distressing to see such women turn themselves into a joke, a cliche, to fall into the ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ category. There is nothing wrong with mutton just that it has gambolled and grazed on this green earth for longer, making it muscular and tough which is oh so very different form the soft tender nubile flesh of the young spring lamb. Mutton can still make a delicious mouth-watering, finger- licking tasty meal;you just prepare it differently, use a different recipe, a different cooking method. Each is wonderful, one is not preferable over the other so long as you stick to the recipes and cooking best suited to each. It is when you try to interchange them that you create problems,dishes that are at best barely edible and worst only suited for the family dog. And so it is with clothes, what compliments one generation can reduce another to a laughing stock. Even the teenage girls look a bit silly and daft tottering around in some of the latest shoe styles, or shoescrapers as a friend of mine lovingly calls them; but put a woman of a certain age in them and, well despite the Botox, I still manage to crack a smile. I have often wondered why a seemingly intelligent woman would choose to dress themselves from their teenage daughter’s wardrobe, particularly if they are attending a social function with this very same daughter who is also, and rightfully so, dressed from her wardrobe? Is it an attempt to, despite the physical evidence present, pass herself of as a much younger version of herself? Further evidence of our society’s obsession with aging, or more accurately doing everything possible to prevent said completely natural course of events. And while it is commendable that these women have bodies that defy their digits, it is sad too that in their pursuit of their lost youth they have reduced themselves to figures of ridicule. That despite the on trend shoes, clothes, hair and makeup,whether it be high street or high end, one quick glance at their face and the illusion is shattered. And because they have gone to such extremes to portray themselves as something else, the let down is big, bigger than it ought to be. The onlooker feels cheated and this annoyance, this betrayal, seeps into their judgement and a very harsh sentence is now delivered. The subject has now exposed herself to not just ridicule but contempt, or even worse, pity. And it gets worse. I now find myself adding years to their age because of how out of place the face is against the backdrop of the much younger attire; so not only have they failed to accomplish their goal, they have succeeded, by their misguided efforts, to add years, to age. And although we spend our late teens trying out hardest to look older, when you reach a certain age, it is absolutely the last thing you want to do. So my humble words of advice are be witty, be humorous, always make people are laughing with you and not at you, and leave your daughter’s wardrobe alone.