I had my son when I was just twenty-one which sounds so young these days but at the time, it really didn’t feel like it. I was climbing high on the career ladder, had been in a relationship with my lovely Mr Mostly for four years, we had bought our first house and starting a family was the icing on a rather fabulous cake. Life was amazing! But becoming a mother, especially a mother who was often wrongly judged for being too young, meant that I used to try to dress much older than my years. Or certainly more sensibly than my years.
The environment that I worked in too meant that I was constantly trying to prove to the much older and experienced colleagues around me that I was more than up to the job. And my working wardrobe used to be my armour I guess. Here’s my power suit hear me roar! So the combination of these things meant that I spent the most part of my twenties not having the confidence to dress how I really wanted. I dressed in a way that I thought would be seen as appropriate. And looking back, I can see that this resulted in me dressing like a rather sensible forty something rather than the twenty something I was.
Now I’m a thirty something with a whole brood of children who long said goodbye to the power suits (and the career that came with them) and I finally have the confidence to enjoy clothes again like I once did as a teenager. I honestly couldn’t care less about what other people think any more. I dress for me. But you know when you are not quite as young as you used to be? Or as thin for that matter? Well yeah, I’m kind of in that place. But the way I see it is that I’ll never be quite this young or probably quite as thin again. Does that mean I’m straying into mutton territory without even realising it?
I always thought that once my children became teenagers, they would become my mutton klaxon but that is so not the case. My teens are mortified by just about anything that I wear. And I mean anything! Wearing Converse has had me deemed as tragic and as for coloured tights, well I won’t even go there. But the problem is that teen baiting has actually become rather fun because it is just too easy to embarrass them. In their eyes, I am beyond ancient which I just find hilarious because in my mind, I don’t actually feel much older than them.
Youth is so wasted on the young. And so are the decent clothes. I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up on my rediscovered love of clothes just yet. And if that makes me mutton, I’m not sure that I care!