The Woman in Black

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Many years ago, in that world of work I invariably wore black. Dull, sombre coloured suits with white blouses and heeled shoes were viewed as appropriate attire for both office and court room. I think there was even a myth that black flattered and slimmed. Hence I had a collection of LBD's for evening events and even black swimwear for holidays.

In retirement I realised that they served little purpose. Getting rid took much longer, but I think I finally got there in 2021.

Today, however, looking through my wardrobe where various hues of blue dominate, the thought went through my mind that whilst there is no black there is no purple either. I was thinking of course of that wonderful poem by Jenny Joseph, "Warning- When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple."
 
Scanning the poem in my head, I realised that I don't have a red hat (unless the pink one I now wear in the garden in winter, after it was partially eaten by a moth, counts). I haven't taken to spending my pension on brandy, summer gloves and satin slippers either. I don't use a walking stick, and definitely don't spit or press alarm bells. As for devouring sausages and growing fat, for me retirement has been a period of much healthier living than before and I've shed the pounds rather than loaded them on.

Do you have to rebel to enjoy your later life and does it happen gradually or overnight? I did keep my slippers on when I went outside to the dustbin this evening; it's not quite the same as going out in them, but is it a start? I'm guessing if I haven't yet solved this conundrum then there may be only two potential conclusions to draw: I am not yet old or alternatively I am as prudish as ever.


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