A friend responded to my last blog (Wearing It Well, November 9) by asking if it was really desperation and not confidence that makes women of a certain age decide to wear make-up and clothing that some might find inappropriate for their years. I had used as an example of confidence Sophia Loren, age 75, looking good in tight leopard skin pants.
I've been pondering my friend's question and concluded that there is no correct answer. It's all in the attitude of the wearer and the eye of the beholder.
Desperation is not the word that comes to mind when I think of Sophia. I like the spark of fun that makes her put on those pants in defiance of what women her age usually wear. Someone else might interpret her wardrobe choice as an act of clinging desperately to something she used to have. I think she still has it.
What is it that makes a woman of 83, like the Mamma in our local caffe bar, paint her toenails red? Is it desperation or just the pleasure of looking down at cherry-colored toes peeping out of her shoes?
In Wearing It Well, I mentioned a lady I see every Sunday at the pizzeria. Always dolled up in an exaggerated style (dyed black hair, bright pink lipstick, high-heeled mules), she makes me smile because she seems pleased (and confident) with how she looks. There is a comic element to her fashion sense, but I don't see it as desperation. I see it as good fun.
The friend who posed the question, incidentally, is comfortable with a beauty that she chooses not to exaggerate like Sophia or the pizzeria lady. She has beautiful prematurely white hair, sparkling blue eyes, and la gioia di vita (joy of life) that leads her to go trekking in Bhutan, swim fifty laps a day, pick olives with the best of the contadini (farmers), get up and dance at the drop of a hat, and create a day with her little grandson that led him to say that it was the best day of his life. Hers is another kind of confident beauty.
This friend says that she likes the line from the 'Desiderata' philosophy: "Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth."
My philosophy is: If you like what you see in the mirror, pull those shoulders back and wear whatever you want for as long as you want. And do it gracefully.
I've been pondering my friend's question and concluded that there is no correct answer. It's all in the attitude of the wearer and the eye of the beholder.
Desperation is not the word that comes to mind when I think of Sophia. I like the spark of fun that makes her put on those pants in defiance of what women her age usually wear. Someone else might interpret her wardrobe choice as an act of clinging desperately to something she used to have. I think she still has it.
What is it that makes a woman of 83, like the Mamma in our local caffe bar, paint her toenails red? Is it desperation or just the pleasure of looking down at cherry-colored toes peeping out of her shoes?
In Wearing It Well, I mentioned a lady I see every Sunday at the pizzeria. Always dolled up in an exaggerated style (dyed black hair, bright pink lipstick, high-heeled mules), she makes me smile because she seems pleased (and confident) with how she looks. There is a comic element to her fashion sense, but I don't see it as desperation. I see it as good fun.
The friend who posed the question, incidentally, is comfortable with a beauty that she chooses not to exaggerate like Sophia or the pizzeria lady. She has beautiful prematurely white hair, sparkling blue eyes, and la gioia di vita (joy of life) that leads her to go trekking in Bhutan, swim fifty laps a day, pick olives with the best of the contadini (farmers), get up and dance at the drop of a hat, and create a day with her little grandson that led him to say that it was the best day of his life. Hers is another kind of confident beauty.
This friend says that she likes the line from the 'Desiderata' philosophy: "Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth."
My philosophy is: If you like what you see in the mirror, pull those shoulders back and wear whatever you want for as long as you want. And do it gracefully.
No comments:
Post a Comment