The Beauty of You

The Beauty of Just Being You

I don’t know how it happened but for some reason all of us have bought into the lie that there is an expiration date on who is able to utilize certain fashion trends and techniques. Like the amusement park ride where we assess our height to see if we are tall enough to ride, in fashion we evaluate our age, to see if we can still participate in the latest fads and styles. Somewhere, someone set a standard that certain clothing styles, hair color and make up applications aren’t for the “older woman.” Cute trendy outfits, vibrant colored hair and smokey eyes need not be worn by those past their forties, unless that is you are a celebrity. I was told once that I dressed too much like a teenager and not a woman of my age. Ouch. I contemplated that statement for a moment and realized that most clothing boutiques did not have an age limit before entering. The tags hanging on the clothing, only gave the maker, price, and size. No matter how long I searched I never saw anything stating, this piece of clothing may only be worn by those ages 14 to 30. I went by the adage, “If the shoe fits' ' and if the cute little crop top fit, and jeans fit, I wanted to purchase it. However, I feigned a lie at the cashier counter mumbling something about how happy my daughter would be since I bought her some new clothes. I figured if the cashier thought they were for me, she would jerk them out of my hands, void the purchase and point me to the door.

I don’t usually shop in big department stores, however on the few occasions I frequent the retailer I noticed their clothing is divided into sections. Infants, children, youth, and the “mature” woman. The clothing in the mature woman section works well if you are purchasing an outfit to meet the first lady and have tea at the white house, or if you desire to wear a blouse that resembles a brightly colored sack. Fashion somehow is the last qualification for clothing in this section of the store. I certainly do not feel youthful as I stroll past racks of serious business minded clothing. I guess most manufacturers of these styles figure that past forty your shape is gone so they design a pretty sack made with elastic around your neck, which will not touch your torso anywhere. And don’t get me started on the jeans section. It's nothing more than blue denim slacks. God forbid a fifty-year-old woman slip into a pair of Levis.

If we see a “mature” woman wearing pastel colors in her hair, or exotic make up we label her as gaudy or silly and think she should grow up. After all, she isn’t a teenager anymore.

I despise this stereotype. As a creator in life, I love the colorful, the glitter, the glitz, the hippie clothing, the bohemian styles and yes, I love the unique hair colors as well. Why are we only taken seriously if we are boring?

I direct for theater so people give me an out saying, “well your job is an artistic one so I guess you can get away with it.” Get away with it? Get away with what? Being creative? being myself? Having a flair for the dramatic in fashion is not getting away with anything.

On another note, why do we insist people cover up their tattoos or piercings when they are working with the public? In this culture of people can identify with whatever they feel makes them happy, why can’t people identify with art? Why must tattoos be regarded as inappropriate or offensive? My daughter attended a private school. She got her nose pierced for her sixteenth birthday. It was a tiny diamond stud, barely noticeable but it made her feel beautiful. She was told she had to remove it. Why? Why is a nose ring offensive and earrings acceptable? Who made the law that ears are the only body part jewelry can hang from?

I have always been a dark brunette. Over the years my roots come in a beautiful snow white. I wasn’t ready to give into the white hair, so I compromised and went blonde. I liked the blonde, but I missed my dark hair. Of course, everyone has their opinions, and some people told me I looked better as a brunette and others loved the blonde. I decided to have the best of both worlds and split it down the middle. One side of my head would be blonde, the other black. Yes, the Cruella Deville look. I wanted to do it but fear of being too old to pull it off, or not being taken seriously afterwards kept me from it. One evening I decided I didn’t care. I had to make myself happy, so I did it. I couldn’t stop smiling afterwards. I loved it. And better yet, the box of color had no age limit on it.

So, the moral of this rant is, you are a work of art. Paint yourself, decorate yourself and cloth yourself in the way you feel most beautiful. Never let a so-called expert tell you glitter isn’t for someone over fifty. Never let the huge posters of teens with perfect bodies make you feel you can’t purchase the outfit they are modeling. You can wear them too if you want. Or you can wear the business suit if that is more your style. Art is art. It’s all different and should be enjoyed by all.