Some of you might remember I reposted a post or two from a blog I used to guest-blog on a while ago. If you don't have a clue what I'm talking about but would like to know, you can read all about it here. So this is the last of the three posts I wanted to have here as well, since the topic is very near and dear to my heart. Why? Because I talk about cool older ladies and my mom and all of these females are my inspirations - clothes-wise and balls-wise too. Therefore - to go with the today's theme - I raided my mom's closet and the clothes you see me wearing in these shots are all hers. Except the shoes, I cannot squeeze my feet in her shoes even though I have pretty tiny feet. She wears a EU 35, which is a US 4 or a UK 2. Yes, she does shop at the kids' shoe section from time to time for flip flops and such. What is a woman to do, people get born with bigger feet than hers!! But enough about feet (how the fuck did I manage to make this about feet?!), here's the post...
I've never been too fond of rules. The only rule I like is that rules are meant to be broken. But it seems that the majority of my childhood was filled with: "Don't jump into puddles. You can't eat ice cream during winter. Don't talk back to teachers. Don't eat crayons! You mustn't wear tight clothes too school. Don't eat clay! Girls don't fight. Don't pick your nose." I know children need boundaries otherwise they grow up to be even bigger monsters than their genetic predisposition urges them to be, but do we really want to be raised into a civilization of blindly rule-abiding spineless wimps?
I guess my relationship with rules isn't much different when it comes to getting dressed. It's not that I walk around looking like Lady Gaga everyday but if I feel like going gaga or bananas occasionally, I do. And it breaks my heart when my mother or my friends ask me if this or that is APPROPRIATE for them to wear to go out with friends, to the theater, a christening, wherever. Appropriate. I hate that word. Appropriate according to whom?! You know what I think? Screw appropriate! Screw it till it's crawling away begging you to stop. And then drag the bitch back and screw it some more! You can't wear white after Labor Day. You can't mix two prints together. Your make-up can't be too bright, too dark or too colorful. You can't wear white pants after 50. You can't put on leggings after 30. You can't have long hair when you're older. Tight clothes are reserved only for younger women. But then again not too young! By the time you're 70, you'll be walking around in an anti-form-fitting a. k. a. overly oversized black (because that's the only appropriate color, dooh) scuba suit covered from head to toe, trotting around like ... Well, like a miserable hag!
My mom was on her way to join the les misérables club but thank Gaga some of my rebelliousness has rubbed off on her so now you can actually find a few 'age-INappropriate' pieces in her closet - and as you can see, I'm telling the truth so I'm making this post sort of an homage to my mom. I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank my boyfriend for comparing me to a grandma on numerous occasions (as evident here and here) and even to a grandpa once (here) because grandmas can be damn cool if they manage to escape the ever hungry jaws of the Appropriate. Don't believe me? If you have 4 minutes to spare, click play and see what I mean; if you don't - well, poor busy you!
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