I think I’m getting old.
Exhibit A) The sneaky crow’s feet making an appearance around the corners of my eyes.
Exhibit B) The fact that I have started calling my boyfriend “my partner”.
Exhibit C) I can’t remember the last time I stepped foot inside a club. Or was in bed later than 1 o’clock, come to think of it.
But mainly, exhibit D) The fact that my hemlines have been slowly slinking lower and lower till my usual mini skirts have come to feel somewhat indecent by comparison.
I can’t exactly remember when it happened, that the longer length dresses I spurned as a teenager suddenly became tres chic and went from being the height of frumpy to sort of sexy, in a sophisticated way. Suddenly midi-length wrap dresses in ditsy florals are the stuff of my sartorial dreams, and I can’t stop buying slinky satin maxis that give me no figure whatsoever but are so easy to wear.
Maybe it’s because I now live in a flat that’s mine, with a man that’s mine, and grown up responsibilities like paying bills and making sure we don’t run out of toilet paper. Maybe I need a new wardrobe to go with this new stage in my life, one that says ‘I’m an adult’ (I don’t feel like it) and ‘I know what I’m doing’ (I really don’t). Or maybe, it’s just fashion. If Urban Outfitters, the hippest purveyors of cool kid young person fashion, is selling cutesy midi dresses in a zillion different colours and styles (the Emilia dress, I have it in white and I highly recommend), then maybe it’s just that the times are changing. Maybe in a few years we’ll all be covered head to toe, and flashing a hint of ankle will be the new sexy? Either way, sign me up! Now to find myself a nice pastel twinset to wear whilst I knit and catch up on Agatha Christie…