I’ve never believed in age-appropriate dressing – when you’ve rocked out to the Rolling Stones or pogoed to the Pistols, that’s never going to happen. But there was a pivotal point in my mid-40s when I threw away my collection of shoestring-strap vests. The less-than-toned arms and too-lazy-for-the-gym attitude called time on skimpy tops. Admittedly, there was a tinge of sadness attached to the Great Shoestring Sling-out. This felt like a significant moment; I was waving a bracelet-sleeved goodbye to my youth and edging into the 45-65 age bracket. How did that happen?
And, yes, the older I get, the longer the list of saggy bits becomes: wobbly arms? Tick. Middle-aged spread? Tick. Feeling bad about my neck? Tick. But, thankfully, as the oestrogen levels heads floorwards, the devil-may-care confidence heads in the opposite direction. I’ve learned to show our attitude in different ways.
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