If Auntie Chic isn’t a thing, can I make it one?
I’m making it one.
I’m the kind of person who literally can’t do minimalism. I’m almost entirely sure that an outfit consisting of clean lines and simple/nonexistent accessories would actually kill me. I like STUFF. I like buying stuff, displaying stuff, just generally walking out with 20 extra visual and literal pounds of things flying off of me. Stuff RULES. My house is decorated the same way, once even described as looking like it belonged to “someone’s grandma…but creepy. ….and nice!”. Yeah, great save, dude. The astrology heaux is strong with me, so I blame it on my Cancer ascendant nesting instincts.
Whatever the reason, apparently that nouveau riche brand of thinking makes me look cluttered and also older…but I’m not super sure I think that’s a bad thing.
Because I’m approaching the womanly “expiration date” of 30, I’ve been contemplating my age more in terms of how I look rather than in terms of what I’ve accomplished lately. “Does this make me look old, are my forehead lines more or less prominent today, is this outfit too young for me,” et cetera. I’ve looked older than I actually am since I could use the potty by myself, and although I can’t say I ever really appreciated being mistaken for my mom’s sister (what”>, or my dad’s wife (ICK“> during my teen years, it’s no longer as fun a talking point. So I make it fun.
I figure, I’m already a Kooky Aunt™, why wait to dress like it? I’m wearing sitcom-wife leopard print pants, boots and sunglasses from Torrid, my trusty Scala fedora with a few different flowery accessories, and everything else is a mix of secondhand, Ross, and TJ Maxx wear. Did you know TJ Maxx has an online store? I didn’t. And that knowledge should not have been made available to me. Because I’m in collection mode constantly. My resume is just the words “Will work for statement rings” over and over again.
So what’s the takeaway here?
Nothing I haven’t said before, only in the opposite direction. Just as I don’t feel like concerning myself with getting styled “too youthfully,” I’m also not concerned with dressing in a way that “ages” me. I’ll be 30, 40, 50, and so on no matter what I do, as long as nothing kills me first. Why waste the rest of my 20s walking a line between “These distressed shorts are too young” and “This all-dark makeup is too old?”
