When I was in my twenties and thirties, 50 seemed an eternity away. And, quite honestly, the domain of the frumpy. But now that I’ve arrived here myself (shockingly fast), I find that I don’t fit into the image I once held of the women who’d let themselves go, feeling they had to live with displaying their grey hair, wearing a pleated skirt and donning a cardigan. I appreciate that times have moved on and so has the stereotype, but what’s now present in the media and probably the minds of the masses, is the image of a woman dressing in a ‘classic’ tailored style (think blazer and ‘slacks’) – and all the fashion advice is for covering your arms, using a belt to cinch in a loose top and hence hide a multitude of sins, and wearing heels to make your chunky ankles look slimmer. Now, I’m not knocking those tips, if they work for you. But none of my peer group are like this. We are all still fashionable, fun and look after ourselves. I watch Love Island and Towie, I know who Kim Kardashian is.
And no, I’m not trying to be 21 again, but I’m not ready to be written off as past it, either.
I like to dress stylishly (without looking like mutton dressed as lamb or a ‘1664’ – 16 from the back, 64 from the front). I can rock a pair of trainers and skinny jeans. I’m interested in the latest new cosmetics launch. I love going to live music gigs. I go on adventurous holidays. I have friends in their 30s and 40s as well as 50s.
So, tell us what it means to you to be 50 and still funky….