A guide to... age-appropriate dressing

THERE comes a time in every woman’s life when she looks in the mirror and is struck by the thought, “Am I too old to wear this flesh coloured body stocking?”

Excessive cleavage exposure does not stop time, otherwise there would be a wormhole situated directly north of Liz McDonald’s nipples.

Usually this is swiftly followed by, “Well, Madonna would wear it,” hot on the heels of which comes the knowledge that most of us – all but one of us, in fact – are not Madonna. Which in many ways is a blessing.

Dressing age-appropriately, like grey hairs, peculiar neck saggage and giving a little sigh of pleasure every time you have a cup of tea, is not something anyone in their twenties need bother about. In your twenties, you can merrily go out naked, wearing only a replica of the US Titanic as a hat, and no one will bat an eyelid so long as you do it with a bit of chutzpah.

In your thirties and beyond, however, such effortless confidence falters.   Should I be dressing older, a girl asks herself, twisting around in the mirror to better inspect her bejewelled bra top and matching hot pants.

It’s difficult. On one hand, we don’t want to be listening to the mediocrity police who would herd us into age-related pens for the convenient consumption of Lladro figurines and comfortable shoes. On the other hand, we don’t want people thinking we’re 18 from behind, and then shrieking in horror when we turn around.

I don’t know much, but I know I love you. No, hang on, that’s something different.  Let’s start again. I don’t know much, but I know that no-one over 27 should wear bunches.  Not even ironically. Especially not ironically.  The only exception to this rule is attending a fancy dress party dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, and even then you might like to ask yourself why you’ve opted to attend as a gingham-clad schoolgirl and not, say, a gorilla, (which, let’s face it, is nearer the truth, now you’re sprouting chin hairs and your bikini line has gone feral.)

Some people dress younger than their years because they are trying to look young. A quick note – this only works if you take off the dress, stick it on a mop and then waggle it round the corner at parties. Otherwise, you may as well just accept that you are 47. 

Alternatively, some people dress young simply because they have not changed their look since 1982. “My, I’m looking fab-o-rama,” such a woman will trill to herself, slipping into a pink neon boob tube and micro ra-ra before heading out to Club Tropicana. (As with sleepwalkers, it’s best not to wake up the Retro Girl. Just leave her and her backcombed bouffant to Lambada in peace.)

Some people dress not just age-inappropriately, but everything-inappropriately and for this we love them. (See: Helena Bonham Carter; Bjork; that woman at the bus stop who argues with her invisible dog). If you have the confidence to express yourself and you don’t give a hoot what anyone thinks, then you have arrived at the holy grail of sartorial sure-footedness. Congratulations. And where did you get that swan?

Here’s what it comes down to: everyone should dress how the hell they like. But for themselves only, and not in an attempt to seek male attention or ward off ageing. Excessive cleavage exposure does not stop time, otherwise there would be a wormhole situated directly north of Liz McDonald’s nipples.

So, if at 36 what really expresses your innermost soul is a pair of bunches then, well, I never want to get stuck in a lift with you, but go for it. Life’s too short. Just like your skirt.