I've always been a fan of "ladies of a certain age" chic. I was donning old lady head scarves before any of my friends gave the charity shop a look in, when I was still the girl who smelled like their granny. Some would say not much has changed, unfortunately.
I have a premature craving for comfortable shoes, when everyone else my age can run marathons in their stilettos and doesn't look like a drunk version of Bambi in 3-inch heels.
Combine this with a genuine love for Werther's Originals and an affinity for pulling my tights up to my bra-line (It keeps you warm. I don't care how septuagenarian I look.) and you see what we have here, dear reader. I am a Golden Girl stuck in the body of a 23 year old.
I even *whispers* really like prunes.
Just the other day, while flicking through an old Hello! magazine at my aunt's house (She really needs to sort that hoarding habit out.), it was like a ray of clarity fell onto the old, tattered pages in my hands (Seriously, the thing was like 10 years old.). I had a new style icon. Not a very popular one, however. No really like.
It's Old Iron Knickers herself. Maggie T in the sartorial house. Not saying I would have agreed (or even am aware, really) of her leadership policies. Just think she's a snazzy dresser, that's all. And in honour of her 85th birthday, I've put together some ensembles that I'm really quite partial to. Check this sheeeet out below...
Green cape? Why, thank you.
Box-style sixties shift? You're too good to me, MT.
Rose print blazer...Wear it with a simple tee and my skinnies you say?
It would be a pleasure.
Now I just need to get my glare down...
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