I froze in fear as the sweet sales clerk tapped at the dressing room door. “How are we doing in there? Can I take a peek?” she asked. No. She most certainly could not take a peek.
Some Talking Heads lyrics pulsed through my head: “And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?” Because there I was, a woman in her 50s, who had just wedged herself into a pair of faux-leather leggings and who was too ashamed to have anyone gaze upon this folly.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, but it was a lie. I was not fine. I was realizing I no longer had a clue how to dress myself.
Read More: “Yes, I Will Wear Leopard Print”: A Fashion Manifesto
Adventures in Legging Land
The faux-leather legging craving had descended upon me about two days earlier when I saw a photo of a somewhat younger friend of mine on Instagram wearing a similar pair of leggings, with a big blouse and cute kitten heels. I wanted to look like that—a woman at midlife who still had style, but didn’t look ridiculous. You know what I mean by ridiculous—”mutton dressed as lamb,” as the saying used to go.
Inside that dressing room, all I felt was 40 kinds of foolish.
I had wanted to show that I was still cool, still up to speed on the trends. But inside that dressing room, all I felt was 40 kinds of foolish. As if I’d been invited to a Grease!-themed party and was test-driving a costume.
So I peeled myself out of the leggings and got ready to return to work in my usual baggy, basic black clothes. But then I looked on Instagram again. There was the photo of my friend, laughing and looking lovely in what I now knew were officially called “vegan leather” leggings.
I walked up to the register and bought the damn things, feeling all shades of Chrissie Hynde.
But the next morning, when I saw them sitting on the chair by my bed, I felt none of that badass power. Instead, I was slapped by sickly waves of regret, like waking up after a wild party and wondering, “Did I really drink that much/put on that platinum wig/offer to lead a line dance?”
Morning-After Regret
Who was I kidding? There I was most mornings, slathering on crepe-correcting skin cream and scanning for any new gray-hair invasions. It was as if I was living a perimenopausal version of “One of these things is not like the others.” We don’t belong here, the leggings seemed to smirk.
I was embarrassed—mortified, even—that I thought I could ever see the light of day in this garment, and returned the leggings ASAP on my lunch hour. For some reason, I felt compelled to lie to the sales clerk that I had bought them for my niece but—D’oh! she already had a pair.
On my commute home, I thought about how easy it used to be to get dressed. Through all my years in New York City, working at fashion magazines like Vogue and Mademoiselle (remember that one?), I loved clothes. Skinny jeans, paper-bag jeans. Leggings, mini-skirts, maxi skirts. Power suits, sundresses, bias-cut dresses, bias-cut dresses worn with Doc Martens. I was there, part of the pack that could make it work. It was a fun game of dress-up every single day.
Knowing My Age
But now, in my 50s, it’s harder. Styles have loosened up, for sure, but part of me still finds myself asking, especially when I’m lured into an Anthropologie by a cunning window display, “Can I wear that? Am I too old? Do I look like I don’t know my age?”
I was embarrassed—mortified, even—that I thought I could ever see the light of day in this garment
As my train lurched to my stop, it occurred to me: I do know my age. And it’s my job to represent it however I please.
So the next day I marched myself right back to Aritzia on my lunch hour, grabbed the forbidden leggings, and headed to the register. The same associate was there as yesterday. She recognized me, and said, “Oh, you’re back!”
“Yes, I decided I needed a pair of these for myself,” I told her with a big smile.
“You do,” she said. “Every woman on the planet does, amirite?”
Shiny Spidery Legs in Manhattan
The next Saturday, I pulled out the snaky garment and told my husband to brace himself, my new vegan leather leggings were spending the day with us.
I put them on with granny boots and a big old Esprit sweater from about 1986 that usually lives in my attic.
Every time I caught my reflection in a storefront window, I had a stupid grin on my face.
Off we went, him telling me I looked hot. Every time I caught my reflection in a storefront window, I had a stupid grin on my face, happy to see my shiny spidery legs moving through Manhattan. It took me back to my 20-something days (hell, I even heard Depeche Mode’s “Black Celebration” in my head) and made me feel still stylish and modern, regardless of the fact that I was born in the 60s and conventional wisdom would have me clothed in Chico’s and Talbots.
When I took the leggings off that night, I thought about a beloved, and hugely flattering, card a friend had sent me on my 50th birthday. She had written that she wanted to give me a shout-out for being a woman moving into midlife with plenty of style and making some surprising, inspiring life choices.
I couldn’t help but think: And now I have a wardrobe to match.
Read More: Forever Blonde: Why I’ll Never (Ever!) Let My Hair Go Gray
A version of this article was originally published in August 2017.
These should be mandatory for all women! 😉
Ok, going to buy some of these tomorrow! I’ve been dying for a pair!
Ditto that Sister!!
Thx! Pix are cropped weird. I need to repost!
Call me crazy, but…. I refuse to accept an age limit to anything that I might FEEL like rockin’! Winter means layering on…and on…and on. Summer shorts for work? Yes, please and with a top that can be rocked OTS, too.
You tell it Kim!!!
I sure can relate. I have been told there is an age limit on Hoodies. One of the most practical items in the world
Janet, I love this. Oh how I fret over clothes choices. Don’t want to look matronly, but don’t want to look like I’m in my sixties, trying to look like I’m in my twenties and not even coming close to pulling it off. I want to dress like Lilly Tomlin in Grace and Frankie, but I probably look like I shop at Dress Barn.
Right on! You look great!
and one more thing: I won’t mention the name of the jeans company I would NEVER consider as an option to buy that goes by the name Not ____ ____ _____ for the very reason that I felt somehow measured against a younger demographic but in a pandered to, or somehow manipulated way…Hard to define, but I felt…my brow furling overtime I tried to wrap my head around them…
Levis. They are still the best, and numerous others…including American Eagle…Hudson… Joe’s…Hue leggings.. the vegan being super excellent with the the one side vegan and the other side fabric…
Janet nails it hands down! I sometimes wonder if part of our challenge to feel sexy at our age is directly impacted by what is available out there- you have to search a bit- I’m not looking for a leopard skin jumpsuit, but a leopard skin pencil skirt with a Catherine Denueve air about it- yes. I love Eileen Fisher to a point, but where is the little bit of slink that takes it to a smouldering sort of level? I actually, years ago, bought these amazing heavier slips from Anthroplogie that I throw an Eileen over, or a something similar – and some boots ( Boden , Bring back your gently triangular toed, seam- down- the- middle classic knee high boot- ageless and sexy) and always I get a shout out . Not exactly a cat call, but that’s not my intent away…
If any of you have recommendations on lines that get it, feel free to share!
Love, love Boden! I always feel that’s my secret until I see someone at the post office with one of the distinctive spotted packaging. Boden gets us. A big Next Tribe seal of approval for Boden!
Love this story, Janet! I feel your pain and exhilaration regarding that style re: what looks age appropriate and what makes you feel young and cool. I, too, vacillated on vegan leggings when I was looking for work clothes about 2 years ago (I’d gone back on staff after 2 decades of freelance, which meant transitioning from yoga pants 24/7 to something a bit more presentable!) Could I wear the cool legging look all the young girls were rocking to the office? I went shopping with a friend a decade younger than I who was CEO of a fashion company and she urged me to buy a pair. I did. They zipped and were unwieldy at “loo time.” Then they ripped at the seam. Not only was I too old but I was becoming too fat to wear them! Then I realized I could pull them on and off just like regular leggings with their elastic waistband. Sewed the seams. And put blind faith in a body positive acceptance of myself (helps that I work for a plus-size fashion company). Now I hardly take them off! They’re as great with a tunic (totally age appropriate) as with a cropped jean jacket and graphic tee (also age appropriate!). Jeannie’s right. It’s all in the confidence factor. Lately I’ve been eying a pair of stretch leather “jeans” that are completely out of my price point, but the idea of owning them is sooo intriguing!
So love it! Been there…done that. I feel like you and I have walked the same department store path. I’ve had to remind myself that long ago I started out as a trendsetter and if on a certain day it is a faux leather legging day pour moi…then a faux leather day it will be!
Love hearing all the responses to this story. I couldn’t stop laughing as I read this because it describes almost every visit I make to a dressing room. I’ve been told you can carry off just about anything if you wear it with confidence; this story sure boosts my confidence.
You do rock my leather legings. You are,still in your early 50s less them 55 wait till you get in your late 50. I am to be 59 in October. And I can not figure out whey I am supposed to wear at all. I wear clothes from coldwater creek that I brought in 2005 to 2008. Still classy but dull. Work clothes. If I feel lazy I wear my scrubs that have the name Sharon F Waget MD CMD inproidered over the left breast pocket. An excuse to wear pajamas to work. On the weekends it is just jeans and a tshirt..very boring stuff.. my work clothing pants are dark blue or black one dark gray and then the shirts are a little more color. But very basic and very boring..it is really hard to look intresting when you are working at this age.
Love!!!!!!
love it! How often have I had these conversations with myself and hearing that “mutton dressed as lamb” quote in my head! You certainly rock the leggings too!