Certainly not purple with a red hat that doesn’t go.
I want to look like Dame Judy Dench.
Or Helen (holyshit) Mirren.
Or Meryl Streep in “The Devil Wears Prada”.
(Her hair? Perfect.)
That strong, dignified, undeniable presence that comes with age and a certainty
regarding who you are and who you are continuing to become.
(note: I’m talking about wardrobe and look here–I would add someone like Golda Meir, for example, but girlfriend was a leetle more concerned about protecting the homeland of the Jewish people than getting her hair done.)
I will be as sharp as my Grandma Rea.
I will wear high heels and dance till all hours,
no matter how cranky my body is.
I will wear beautiful clothes in beautiful fabrics
for which my granddaughters will pine.
And here’s the (a) thing:
I love my pajamas,
particularly whilst in the midst of this unemployment thing.
But I don’t go outside in them.
I believe there is value in dressing well (not fussy, but well)
when leaving the house.
I’m still trying to find the balance between being comfortable and chic;
still trying to find those perfect cuffable capris that I can wear Audrey-style with red flats.
I’m working on having a style that is lovely.
And this, from the Fabulous Project Rungay Guys.
(um…spoiler alert if you watch Mad Men)