I Wear What I Like - and Why You Should Too

Throw off the outdated notion of age-appropriate dressing and just dress for yourself

Sometime around 1980, when I was about 8 years old, I discovered a two-piece suit that belonged to my sister when she was my age.

As she was almost 10 years older than me, this jacket and its matching shorts were flower-power personified. Remember those floral duvet sets that everyone had back in the 1960s and 70s? It might as well have been made out of that fabric, but this suit was even more colourful. Bold, psychedelic pastel flowers made up the print of this (at the time) horribly outdated outfit.

But I - being the willful child that I was - fell in love with it, hook, line and sinker.

Unfortunately, the turn of the 1980s was not a time to be wearing anything flower-power-inspired or “groovy, baby” (as uncool as that expression is now). Debbie Harry was the style icon of the day with her effortlessly cool t-shirts, distressed denim and a touch of masculine chic. Post-punk fashion was more rebellious, and the new-wave look of the time was edgy and modern. Despite all this, my peculiar attraction to this psychedelic two-piece was so strong I insisted on wearing it. In public.

How I remember my psychedelic floral jacket and shorts set. The AI image generator was spot on.

I can remember my mother asking me, “Are you sure you want to wear this? You don’t HAVE to wear all your sister’s hand-me-downs, you know”. I’m sure what she was really saying was, “Please god no, don’t go out in that, I beg of you.”

But go out in it I did, and when my sister (then in her late teens) saw me wearing it, her reaction wasn’t anywhere near as polite or as favourable as my mother’s… horrified is the word I’d use. I think she even refused point blank to be seen in public with me wearing her passé cast-offs for fear of me blabbing and telling everyone they used to belong to her.

I didn’t care one bit. I loved that two-piece suit in all its garish glory because I chose it for myself, and boy it made me feel good. I soon outgrew it size-wise, but the memory of how much I loved that jacket and shorts set lingered on.

Now aged 51, I have a lot to thank that suit for; it set me up for a lifetime of wearing whatever I want. Not what my friends were wearing. Not what my boyfriends or husband wanted me to wear. My clothes were always my choice. As a teenager, some of my outfits amused my parents, but most of the (shall we say) more… unusual choices were short-lived. I’m just grateful to them for allowing me the freedom to find my own style by myself.

I’ve been sharing photos of what I wear online for over 12 years. Having been what was described in the early days as a “fashion blogger” (that expression seems so quaint now in the current world of “social media influencers”), I’ve had more than my fair share of negative comments about my outfits.

Quite early on, after realising I was attracting some less-than-favourable critiques, I wrote a blog post explaining that I wasn’t doing what I was doing to discover people’s opinions of what I wore. Nor did I wish for discussions over how “successful” my outfit was. Instead, I made it clear I wanted only to inspire people to take risks, to have fun and to experiment. I was wearing what I wanted, which in essence really wasn’t such a big deal: “…it’s only clothes.”

Despite that pseudo-manifesto, I continued to receive unsolicited advice stating how “those trousers were unflattering” on me or that “mixed patterns looked bad”. It didn’t stop me from continuing to wear the trousers that apparently did nothing for me or wearing All The Patterns All At Once (a now-defunct Asos style page declared me “The Queen of Clash” which I freekin’ loved. I quoted that for many years to come).

My polite insistence that I wasn’t bothered fell on deaf ears most of the time - but I realised that in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. “What other people think about you is none of your business” I read somewhere.

But as someone who is active on social media (not so much now as I was then, but you get my point), it can be hard to turn a blind eye to direct criticism. In the days before online trolling, people had the decency to say things about you behind your back (hah!), but social media allows every person and their dog to shove their two pennies’ worth in your face behind a virtual veil of anonymity. It’s something that I've found hard to get my head around, but I try to remind myself that for every unpleasant comment I’ve received, I’ve received a hundred nice ones.

But there’s more to it than just the good feeling I get from a compliment (and let’s be honest, who doesn’t like compliments?). For me, the comments I love the most are those that tell me how much my attitude and encouragement to “wear what you like” has ignited a spark in them. I love hearing that I’ve boosted the confidence of someone who needed a little nudge where their personal style was concerned. Those kinds of comments mean everything to me.

I think those of us who share our personal style online often forget that not everyone is doing the same. Many women may not have any idea that this notion of truly embracing your own style – whatever it may be – even exists. We are still, unfortunately, tied to this idea that we should now be wearing x, y and z because we are over 40, 50, 60, etc. Moreover, according to the internet, we should also stop wearing certain things.

Above: All the personas I might take on as I get older

How many articles have you seen that dictate what we should and shouldn’t wear after a certain age? “10 things you should stop wearing after 40”. “What women over 50 should never wear”. There are even articles telling you what to stop wearing after the tender age of 25, and I find that especially upsetting. (And controlling. There’s often a hefty dose of gaslighting thrown in for good measure, too.) Although they’re mostly written as clickbait, I think they’re harmful and (unknowingly to us) contribute to women’s ongoing issues with self-esteem.

I’d like to think that a plus side of social media is that content creators are doing a lot to let people know that it’s okay to break the rules because you know what? Wearing skirts above the knee at the age of 50 doesn’t really have that much of a consequence for others. Just damn well wear mini skirts if you like them. Denim (hell, even the ripped stuff) isn’t just for teens and 20-somethings - it’s timeless. The right pair of jeans makes you feel good no matter whether you’re 18, 58 or 88.

(On the subject of fashion rules, there’s only one “rule” I think anyone should ever follow when it comes to deciding what to wear: simply make sure you’re aware of the occasion and dress accordingly. As long as you’re respectful of where you are and the event itself, that’s all you have to consider. After that, there really are no rules.)

Clothing is seen by many as a form of self-expression. It took me till I was 40 to realise that everyone has the right to express themselves through what they wear, and I realised how heinous all those early Noughties shows like What Not To Wear and Snog Marry Avoid were. Why should I wear what I “should” wear? My wardrobe became a lot bolder and more colourful (and therefore more interesting) as a result because I just decided to let go. I loved the fact that what I wore became a reflection of my personality and (very often) my mood.

It’s my midlife party and I’ll wear dungarees if I want to

And that meant wearing whatever I wanted to wear. I invariably got it wrong - but did it matter? Why should other people be bothered about what I wear? I’m not bothered about what they wear.

We’re old enough and grown-up enough to make major decisions about our children, our homes, our careers, our finances, our relationships – why we then worry about something as comparatively trivial as what others think of the clothes we wear is one worry to kick to the kerb.

Once you decide to wear whatever you like, you will, I guarantee you, become more comfortable in your own skin. The notion of dressing “age-appropriately” is profoundly outdated and adds another layer of control over what women can and can’t do. I’d like to think that letting go of the preconceived notions about how women should dress will encourage more inclusivity and open-mindedness.

(I’ll get back to you on that one.)

If I decide to be someone who wears head-to-toe pink I’ll damn well go for it

So from today, what you wear should only depend on how you want to look and feel that day - with a gentle nod to where you’ll be and what you’re doing.

Just remember: What you’re wearing is no one else’s business but yours. And what others think about what you’re wearing isn’t any of your business, either.