Mutton Chic
“What was I thinking?” I asked myself while scrolling through vibrant, high-cut swimsuits & bikinis on a Sunday morning. Those tempting, colourful triangles of fabric sparked my imagination as I pictured them paired with shorts under my maxi dresses. And that's when it happened.
While shopping together, a mother and daughter were browsing for swimwear. The young girl was excitedly pulling out designs that she wanted, but the mother explained that they were too adult and unsuitable for her age. I felt my face flush with embarrassment, realising that I was probably older than both of them combined.
I hate to admit it, but I came home and tried on the costumes I already owned. I also photographed myself. Talk about hard, humiliating reality. Rolls of menopausal back fat, my neck and chest heavily lined. Did this body really belong to my face? Last month, I was on a beach, thinking rather stupidly. I had looked ok.
I have struggled with dark, visible varicose veins for as long as I can remember. To my dismay, when I put my glasses on, I noticed that they had spread past my knees and, like ink, they resembled spiders crawling across a palette of strawberries all over my lower half.
My immediate reaction was to clear out everything from my summer wardrobe and get rid of it. I was upset, and there was no one I could turn to with my frustrations. Why should I be restricted from wearing what I want? It’s incredibly unfair that my body hasn’t managed menopause as well as I had convinced myself it would. The reality is, I have not escaped the majority of the symptoms, and it's time to acknowledge that.
People often approach me with kind compliments like “You look amazing” or “I saw your post, gorgeous dress.” Yet, no one has ever made a remark that felt cowardly, rude, or offensive. Would I share how this impacts me? Maybe not. However, for days now, I’ve been grappling with a powerful sensation that echoes the themes of the mirror and Dorian Grey.
Ditching the shorts and vest, I chose a dress that was both stylish and appropriate. The sleeves concealed my arms & legs nicely, so any unsightly veins were out of sight, while I stepped out in comfortable, sensible shoes. To my surprise, it was the perfect outfit for enjoying what became the warmest day of the year!
What is an appropriate look for a lady in her 60s? I want to avoid sagging arms, wear loose-fitting crochet, and have a tan that makes my legs look good. These shoes were on their way to the thrift store, but I took them off, looked back at this image, and decided to donate them instead. What’s wrong with me? Reaching this milestone birthday has made me feel suddenly vulnerable and unsure. I find myself questioning the suitability of all my clothes. I’ve even thought about the phrase "mutton dressed as lamb." Yes, I said it because it’s been on my mind.
Is covering up truly a way to hide our insecurities? Are we guilty of silently judging the ages of women who pass by, scrutinising their outfits? Let’s reflect on how our perceptions may reveal our own hidden fears and doubts.
A sudden change in direction, a significant blow to my confidence, and turning 60 is hitting me hard. However, I know it's crucial to look forward. I refuse to accept that the best of me is behind me. While the joy of clothes shopping and dressing up in high heels, trendy outfits, and mini skirts may feel like a distant memory, it's not too late to rediscover that excitement. Yes, the world is filled with electric cars and scooters that can be intimidating, along with phone snatchers, AI, and scammers lurking around.
But instead of letting these challenges overwhelm me, I can embrace the journey ahead and adapt to this new era with resilience and style.